


Away with the Faeries

by scribblemoose



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-05
Updated: 2012-08-05
Packaged: 2017-11-11 11:08:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 36,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/477891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scribblemoose/pseuds/scribblemoose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Arthur is in trouble, the knights are in peril, and Merlin has to unite his own little bit of Albion. </p><p>This is a sequel to '<a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/111244">Little Thief</a>', but stands alone as well.</p><p> <img/><a href="http://lili-flygirl.livejournal.com/6945.html">Cover art from the wonderful Liliflygirl.</a></p><p> </p><p>With thanks to Kis for the cheerleading, beta and endless encouragement, and to Ste for the cups of tea and for having faith in me, even when I have none myself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**PART ONE**

Evenings in Camelot before Morgana's disappearance had meant peace and quiet for Merlin, on the whole, unless there was some kind of entertainment going on. But usually it was a matter of making sure Arthur was fed, bathed, tucked up in bed and then (unless Merlin ended up being tucked up with him, which did tend to happen from time to time) Merlin's time was his own. He'd spend long hours in his room, poring over his magic books, learning spells, or sometimes sitting with Gaius by the fire, listening to stories from the times before the purge. Or getting lectures on the many medicinal uses for the common leech.

Since Morgause had spirited Morgana away, however, there had been no opportunity for any such indulgence. Uther's demands that the land be scoured for any sign of his ward had intensified to the point where if they weren't out on the search, they were getting ready for the next expedition. Any precious time snatched at home was quickly filled with baths, hot food and a swift exchange of news with Gaius and Gwen.

Meanwhile Camelot stood grey, bleak and cold, a shadow of the hive of bustle and light it had been. The winter had not been kind, and stonemasons worked long, hard hours to repair the damage from Kilgharrah's attack. Merlin made extra effort to make sure Arthur's chambers' were warm and comfortable: they had to endure enough discomfort on the road and the Prince needed proper rest when they were at home.

On one such night, as Merlin lit candles and wondered if he'd manage to get back to his bed before he passed out from exhaustion, Arthur said, softly, "Would you like to stay?"

A flicker of excitement sparked in Merlin's belly, despite his fatigue. It had been a while, and for all that he was tired, Merlin knew that some things were even better than sleep for restoring a person's spirits. 

"Yes," he said, wondering too late whether Arthur really meant to take him to bed, or if he needed him for other things. But Arthur was smiling, and Merlin knew that smile well. He grinned back and started to unbuckle his boots.

"Keen, eh?" said Arthur.

"Always anxious to please, Sire," Merlin replied, teasing.

"You do understand that this is entirely optional." Merlin recognised the touch of anxiety in Arthur's voice; it was the same tone that Arthur used when he suspected his knights of letting him win in combat.

"Everything's optional," Merlin said, and shoved Arthur back on the bed.

*

 

Arthur was especially gentle and Merlin sensed a need for intimacy that he was pleased to fulfil. Merlin took Arthur deep into his body, while Arthur kissed him and stroked his shoulders, his chest, his jaw. His throat. Lingering there before trailing his fingers down Merlin's sternum. They moved together, skin golden in the candlelight, and Merlin lost himself to it. Arthur's climax when it happened was a deep, shuddering release; Merlin, who had already come, watched Arthur's face, watched the open, relaxed expression bloom there once he was done. So rare. So beautiful.

"So," said Merlin, when they finished and disentangled, and Arthur lay at his side looking flushed and stupid with pleasure. "What was all that about?"

"Mmm?" 

"Not that I'm complaining," Merlin added hastily. "It just hasn't happened for a while. And it was especially nice."

Arthur sighed deeply. "I suppose…." He turned to look at Merlin - no, to _watch_ him, gauging his response. "It's been busy. And then there's Guinevere."

"Ah."

"It's complicated."

"Not really," said Merlin. "You like her and she likes you. One day you'll be together, I'm sure of it."

"But it's not like this. Wouldn't ever be."

"Like what?"

"You and me. What we do together."

Merlin stared at him. They hadn't talked about this before and he never thought they would. He had been quite certain that Arthur was pretty much _incapable_ of talking about anything like this. "I'm not sure what you mean," he said, cautiously.

"I don't want to be unfair to you."

"Because you're in love with Guinevere?"

"No, I…" Arthur hesitated. "It's completely different, is the thing. It's like apples and strawberries."

Merlin resisted the urge to ask who was the strawberry. "They're both fruit, Arthur."

"Yes," Arthur flopped onto his back. "Forbidden fruit. I can't have Gwen because she's a servant, and you… well, you're completely wrong."

"Thanks," said Merlin with a wry grin.

"You know what I mean."

"It's not that unusual, among nobles. Having close, um, friends, among servants."

"I'm going to pretend you didn't say that, Merlin. Gwen isn't like that. Gwen is pure, and sweet, and she wouldn't do anything so wanton."

"Actually, I was thinking of me," said Merlin.

"Oh, I see."

Merlin waited a moment for Arthur to say that of course Merlin was, if not pure and sweet, at least not completely wanton, but Arthur didn't. He just sighed.

"Well," said Merlin. "I suppose all good things come to an end."

"What do you mean?"

Merlin sat up and reached for his shirt, which was dangling from the bed canopy, for some reason. "I know you're not convinced, but I am. Gwen will be your Queen one day. It's time all this stopped."

"Time all what stopped?"

"This." Merlin gestured to the bed, a mess of rumpled bedsheets.

"But this has nothing to do with Guinevere."

"Really? Shall I check she's okay with it? I'm due at the laundry with her tomorrow; shall I just say, 'Hi, Gwen, wanted to make sure you don't mind me taking the odd tumble with the man you love?'"

"Merlin!"

"She's been my friend since the first day I arrived in Camelot, Arthur. I can't do that to her."

"Oh," said Arthur, miserably. "I see. Well, of course. If you put it that way. Yes."

Merlin didn't trust himself to say any more. He picked up his clothes, and mostly dressed himself on his way to the door. 

"Merlin?"

Merlin turned; Arthur sat in bed, sheets pooling around him like a river of cream linen. He looked amazing. 

"Thank you," Arthur said. "For… thank you."

Merlin swallowed hard and nodded.

He left without another word.

*


	2. Chapter 2

Much of the next few weeks was spent on horseback, in horizontal rain that felt like ice and kept Merlin's clothes in a state of perpetual clamminess. His hair dripped into his eyes, he regularly fumbled the reins because his fingers were numb with cold, and he could hardly speak.

Their search took them to the northern plains, where they found an encampment of bandits, but very little else. Merlin and Arthur carried on as always; if Arthur missed their occasional tumbles he didn't show it. Merlin missed it. He missed it a good deal more than he'd expected. But he kept his feelings firmly locked up, not wanting to give Arthur the satisfaction of knowing he was pining for him. 

They found themselves on a particularly inhospitable expanse of moorland when the first snows fell. The days were short and the nights long. It became a daily quest to find enough firewood to last the night, and if anyone wondered at his uncanny knack of getting campfires burning in record time, they were too grateful to question it. 

One night, about two weeks out of Camelot, Merlin found himself sitting on a log next to Odric, one of Camelot's most seasoned knights, and one of Uther's favourites. He was an affable sort of fellow, built like a warhorse and very handy with a throwing axe. Merlin rather liked him.

"You look cold, boy," Odric said. He poked at the fire with his sword, turning a log for an even burn. Sparks flew through the smoke, bright enough to leave an afterglow. 

"I've been down to the stream," Merlin said. "Filling skins for tomorrow."

"Splendid. I wish Leonard would take the initiative like that."

Leonard was Odric's personal servant, previously a Camelot guard. Merlin had long-times suspected that there was a story behind Leonard's change of role, but he had yet to find anyone willing to tell it to him. Doubtless it was prudent for a knight to have a servant who could watch his back in a fight - Arthur had tried to impress this on Merlin many times. But Leonard was, without doubt, far better in a fight than in a laundry room or a kitchen. Merlin had helped him out more than once with a bit of rudimentary advice about smoothing linens and getting the stains out of leather. But Odric never seemed to mind his servant's shortcomings. In fact, Merlin had never heard him say a bad word about Leonard, which contrasted sharply with how often Arthur complained about Merlin without any reason at all.

"There's bound to be a frost tonight," said Odric. "Stay close to the fire, lad, that's my advice."

Merlin smiled politely, and nodded. 

"You've seemed a bit down in the dumps this trip."

Merlin was flattered that he'd even noticed. "We don't seem to be having much luck, do we? It's been months and still not a sign of her."

Odric hesitated for a moment and then said, almost whispered, "They say magic had a part in her disappearance."

Merlin looked at him, startled. "She was taken by the witch, Morgause. I thought everyone knew that."

"Alas, not everyone has such regular or intimate access to the Prince. If it is as you say, and the Lady Morgana was transported by magic, that bodes ill for our quest. She could be anywhere at all."

"Yes."

"Unless she tries to escape, of course. She's very capable."

Merlin rubbed his eyes: the smoke from the fire stung. He wasn't sure what Odric knew, or thought he knew, or what, if anything, he might be hinting at, and it was hard to know what to say. Sometimes the deceptions that surrounded Merlin threatened to strangle him, and it was all he could do to stop himself blurting out everything just to get it over with.

"You look tired, lad," said Odric, with a kind pat to Merlin's shoulder. "Best get some rest."

"Thanks, Odric. Goodnight."

Merlin took himself off to his bedroll, which lay next to Arthur's. Arthur was fast asleep, softly snoring. As Merlin lay at his side he could feel Arthur's body heat, hear his breath. If he reached out, he could touch him. 

Merlin kept his hands under his blanket, well out of trouble.

*

 

Merlin piled strips of dried bacon onto a plate for Arthur, alongside a heap of scrambled eggs, fresh from the farm they'd passed through the previous day. Arthur had laughed at him at the time for his extravagance, but the way his eyes lit up when Merlin handed him his unusually interesting breakfast told another story.

Merlin grinned shamelessly at Arthur's obvious pleasure, and tucked into his own plateful. He was just mopping up the last bits of egg with a not-too-stale crust of bread, when he heard hoofbeats approaching. Arthur and the knights sprang to their feet, swords ready. But the flash of red through the trees heralded the visitor as an ally: a messenger in Camelot livery. He dismounted gracefully to kneel in front of the Prince.

"I have a message from the western patrol, Sire."

Arthur gestured for the man to get up. "What is it?"

"There are accounts of a woman answering the description of Morgause the Sorceress being seen in the village of Grassmere, Sire. The patrol investigated and there is some indication that she may have taken residence in the tower of Gedrich."

"Gedrich? That place has been abandoned for years."

Sir Leon, standing at Arthur's left, frowned and added, "Not only that, Sire, but the lands on which the tower stands belong to Sir Harold. He is a trusted servant of the King from a noble family, a knight of Camelot until he retired a couple of winters ago. I'm sure he would not knowingly harbour the King's mortal enemy."

"Indeed," said Arthur. "I shall investigate personally. Odric, get word to my father and find out what you can about Harold's recent activities. It is possible that he may be acting under some kind of enchantment. Meet us at Grassmere as soon as possible. We'll go ahead to assess the situation." He turned to the messenger. "Take time to water your horse and take whatever refreshment you need. Then ride back and rejoin your patrol. I'll prepare instructions for you to deliver to your leader."

Merlin's heart was racing as he watched the messenger lead his horse to the stream. If they really had found Morgause than they might discover Morgana's fate. It was a very strange thing, to be on a quest so hard, with a conclusion he dreaded so much, but which at the same time held so much hope. If he could explain to Morgana why he'd had no choice but to poison her; if she would only understand; if they could share magic at last….

"Come on Merlin," said Arthur, with a slap to Merlin's shoulder that all but unbalanced him. "We haven't got all day."

*

They reached Grassmere late that afternoon. Arthur stationed his party at the inn on the outskirts of town with strict instructions to remain as anonymous and inconspicuous as possible. 

"I need you to do something for me," Arthur told Merlin as they sat by a very welcome fire in the inn. "I want you to cast about, talk to people. Find out what they're saying, see if you can pick up anything useful. But you must be careful, Merlin. Don't raise any suspicions."

"A Camelot patrol just moved in. If anything's going to raise suspicions, that should do it."

"Don't try and be clever, Merlin. It's not that unusual for a patrol to head out this way at this time of year to make sure everything's all right before winter sets in."

Merlin shrugged. "All right. I'll make a start after dinner."

"No, Merlin. You'll start _now_."

"But I'm hungry!"

"You can eat all you want when you get back. Go on, quick, before the whole town packs up for the night."

Treating Arthur to a particularly icy glare, Merlin put on his coat and left.

*

The town was quiet. The market traders were packing up: securing their wares in chests and sacks to put on carts, counting their takings, pulling hessian over uncovered counters. Merlin strolled between the rows of stalls, keeping himself to himself, and his eyes and ears open. 

People weren't talking about anything out of the ordinary: trade, supply routes, the weather, wagon trains. Taxes and how to avoid them. Finally, after walking through pretty much the whole market, Merlin came to a pile of boxes and crates brimming with ledgers, parchment and quills, pots of ink in different colours and sable brushes so fine that the lines they'd make would be all but invisible. Gaius would be in heaven.

Merlin was not unmoved himself. 

On top of the biggest pile of boxes sat a girl. She was no more than twelve years old, probably nearer ten. Her hair fell in expansive waves down her back and across her shoulders like a golden shawl, and she watched Merlin through shrewd green eyes.

"I haven't seen you before," she said, just as Merlin was about to drag himself away from the ink pot that would have been the perfect addition to his little desk back in Camelot.

"Nor I you," said Merlin. "It's a big town."

"Not really. Not like Camelot. Have you ever been to Camelot?"

"Have you?"

"I asked first. So you have to answer."

There was a playfulness about her, mischief perhaps, but nothing really wicked. Merlin smiled. "Yes. I've been to Camelot."

"So you'll know it's really, really big. And there's a castle, where the princes and princesses live. We don't have a castle."

"Well, technically there's only one prince at Camelot. And no princesses at all."

"Yes there are," the girl said, her tone making it absolutely clear to Merlin that if she said there were princesses it was absolutely true, and anyone claiming otherwise should think carefully before they made a fuss. Merlin was reminded of arguments with Will back in Ealdor when they were boys. 

"I see," Merlin said.

"Where are you going?" The girl's eyes were such a vivid colour and so intent that Merlin half-thought she might already have plucked the answer from his mind. 

"Nowhere. Just out for a stroll in the market."

"Everything's shut."

"That's all right. I don't have any money anyway."

She leaned in a little closer, squinting at him as if subjecting him to detailed scrutiny, then whispered, "Your heart's desire cannot be bought with pennies, can it? Not even with silver or gold."

Merlin twitched back from her: something sparked his magic. Her words echoed in his head. But she seemed to be a perfectly ordinary girl. She was skinny with gangly limbs; she wore a white linen dress that wasn't entirely clean and her stockings bore a hole on one ankle. Her face was pretty; she had dimples, a tiny nose and big blue eyes framed with pale lashes. 

She smiled at him.

"Well," said Merlin. "On the other hand, I could do with some new trousers. They're nearly worn through the knees."

She gave his knees a critical glance. "They look all right to me."

"Oh, no, not these. These are my riding trousers."

"Is that why they're covered in horsehair and mud?"

"It happens."

"We don't sell trousers. This is my father's stall. He sells parchment and quills and letter tablets. Finest in the land. Would you like to take a look?"

"Ah, sorry. I've no money, remember?"

"Of course. Well, you'd better be moving along, then, no point hanging around here if you can't buy anything." She thrust out her hand and Merlin found himself shaking it. It was small and very warm, and clasped his own firmly. "Well met, poor boy with hairy trousers," she said. "Goodbye."

"Goodbye," Merlin said, solemnly. "Have a nice evening."

A few steps along from the stall he turned and waved at her. She waved back, cheerfully. 

When he looked back again at the end of the path, she was gone.

*

 

Merlin returned to the inn to find Arthur sitting at a table by the fire. There was a bowl of steaming stew in front of him that smelt incredibly good. Merlin's stomach growled as he flopped down into the seat opposite Arthur's, relieved to be off his feet at last.

"Ah, Merlin! How did you get on? Did you find out anything?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing at all?" Arthur's disappointment was almost tangible.

"Well, there's a rumour going around that the Squire's having a romantic liaison with his wife's sister, but I think that probably comes under gossip rather than useful information."

Arthur's nose wrinkled. "That's not very honourable."

"Well, no. Some men aren't." Merlin looked longingly at Arthur's stew.

"You did ask the right questions, I hope?"

Merlin's stomach rumbled again, this time so loudly that they both heard it. Arthur raised an eyebrow at him, as if Merlin had done it on purpose to irritate him, and really, Merlin was just about done.

Arthur stopped a passing serving girl. "Food for my friend here, please? And a tankard of ale for each of us."

Merlin's eyes went wide.

"Don't get excited, Merlin. It would look pretty bad if you died of starvation on me."

Merlin grinned.

"Besides, it's best if we go incognito. If Morgause is around I'd rather not announce our presence."

"I could get used to incognito," said Merlin, as a foaming tankard of ale appeared in front of him.

"Shut up, Merlin," said Arthur.

*

A couple of hours later, feeling pleasantly full and a little merry from the ale, Merlin closed the door of the room he and Arthur were sharing, and hiccupped. Arthur tutted but he didn't look up; he was arranging weapons strategically around his bed, slipping his favourite dagger under the pillow, his sword within easy reach on the floor…

"Well," Merlin said. "Harold whassisface who owns the Hall isn't here at the moment. He went on a pilgrimage three months ago, leaving the estate in the hands of his overseer. There's been goings on up at the big house - not just the Squire, who's being a bit on the dishonourable side, but there's a rumour that the overseer's taken up with a strange woman with long, flowing, fair hair and mysterious powers. He's given her sanctuary in the Tower of Gedrich."

Arthur's eyes went wide. "I thought you said you didn't find out anything?"

"I didn't find out anything at the market. People talk a lot more in bars, especially after a few drinks." Merlin hiccupped again.

"Good heavens, Merlin! You actually showed some initiative. Well done!"

"Thanks," said Merlin, drily.

"Did you get any idea of when Harold's due back?"

"Not until Spring, I don't think. But, Arthur, we don't have a lot to go on. It's only one woman. Singular. No mention of her having anyone else with her. It might not be Morgause."

"Perhaps Morgana escaped," said Arthur with surging hope in his eyes that Merlin found hard to look at. "I always said she's tough. She knows how to take care of herself."

"Yeah. She does."

"I'll send a patrol to search the local area first thing tomorrow morning." Arthur sat on the bed and pulled off his boots. "We'll check out the tower."

"Do you think that's wise, Sire?" Merlin kept his voice steady and began to tidy away Arthur's things.

"Well, obviously, otherwise I wouldn't have suggested it."

"I could go instead. Scout ahead. Sneak around a bit."

"Don't be ridiculous, Merlin, you couldn't sneak if your life depended on it. Besides, who knows what might be lurking there?" Arthur pulled his shirt over his head, leaving his hair mussed. The muscles in his back rippled as he yawned and stretched. "Time to get some rest. Get the candles, will you, Merlin?"

Merlin tucked Arthur's boots neatly under the foot of the bed and started to blow out candles. There was a moment, when Arthur was getting into bed, when they looked at each other and the breath caught in Merlin's throat, because at one time, not so very long ago, that would have meant something was about to happen. But now it couldn't. Not any more. So Merlin turned away, and concentrated on his bedtime chores. He left the last lit candle on the rickety table that stood between their beds, until he'd got ready for bed himself and slipped between the clammy sheets.

"I wonder," said Arthur.

"Mmm?" Merlin's hiccups had abated at last and he felt suddenly very sleepy.

"What does Morgause want with Morgana, do you think? She has no power and Morgause hasn't issued a ransom. Why go to all that trouble to kidnap her?"

"Maybe she's biding her time. The longer Morgana's missing, the more desperate the King will be. Perhaps she hopes he'll surrender Camelot itself."

"She'll have to wait a long time. I know my father wants Morgana home but I can't imagine him going to those lengths. Whatever else happens, the kingdom always comes first. Besides, why Morgana? Why not me?"

For a moment, drowsy with beer, Merlin thought he might tell Arthur what really happened. It would feel so good to confess, to unburden himself of the guilt that haunted his nightmares and to explain why. _I had no choice, Arthur, if I hadn't we would all be dead…_

Merlin took a deep breath and Arthur sighed, turning onto his side and punching a dent in the pillow before sinking into it. "Goodnight, Merlin. Don't forget to fetch my breakfast in the morning."

Merlin put out the candle with a glance and stared up at the ceiling through the dark. 

*

Merlin followed Arthur across the fields of Harold's estate, most of which were occupied by scruffy-looking sheep, enclosed by dense hawthorn hedges. They'd left the horses at the inn in the interests of stealth, and approached from the east. The tower stood at the end of an old path bordered by walls built in the same grainy, bleak stone. The path led away to the north, towards a scrubby-looking thicket, and bordering the walls were trails of gravel and stretches of greener, wispier grass.

"It looks empty," said Merlin.

"Looks can be deceptive," Arthur said. "Although, not in your case. You look almost as stupid as you actually are."

"And you look pretty pompous."

"I do _not_ look pompous. What does pompous even look like?"

"Blond, snooty and…" Merlin thought for a moment. "Paunchy."

"What?! I am _not_ paunchy."

"If you say so, Sire."

"It's the chain mail. It makes everyone look like that. Even Sir Elsthwaite, and he's as skinny as a rake."

"Ah," said Merlin, with a barely-suppressed grin. "I see."

He only had a few seconds to enjoy Arthur's outrage before they were interrupted by a noise. It was a high pitched call, like the screech of an owl, but not one Merlin recognised.

"What's that?" he said. 

"Not sure."

They crouched behind a bush. The tower was close enough that Merlin could see the stain of ivy stems on its brickwork. The air prickled; Merlin felt magic.

Arthur peered around the bush. "I'm going in for a closer look." 

"Be careful, Arthur. There's something not right about this."

"Oh, really, Merlin? A crumbling tower and a sorceress and stupid noises and you think something's wrong? If there wasn't anything wrong, we wouldn't be here, would we?!"

"Fine, go blundering in there like you always do, see if I care."

Arthur's chest puffed out. "Blundering?!"

"Shhh!"

There it was again - that high-pitched call. Closer now. Louder.

"Don't shush me, Merlin. Come along."

Merlin followed Arthur reluctantly as he edged closer to the tower, using the cover afforded by the ramshackle hedges and shrubs that might once have been part of a garden. As they approached the wall surrounding the tower itself, Merlin noticed familiar herbs, once husbanded but now growing wild: feverfew, thyme, rosemary. He made a mental note to stop and collect a few for Gaius on the way back: Gaius's herb garden had been all but wiped out by Kilgara's attack, and it would be good to help restore it to rights. If they survived, obviously.

The eerie call, much closer now, seemed to emphasise that survival was no means a foregone conclusion.

"What if it's haunted?" Merlin whispered urgently.

"Do be quiet, Merlin."

"Yes, but-"

"I said, shut up!" Arthur put his finger to his lips and gave Merlin an emphatic nod. They crouched beside the wall, and listened.

There was a voice.

A sweet, sweet voice, like the most melodious of birds, like the chime of fine glass; the perfect, polished notes of raindrops dancing in the quiet of the morning.

Merlin watched Arthur closely. He was smiling. No, worse than that, he was grinning like an idiot. His eyes closed, his face tipped up towards the tower and he whispered, "Isn't that the most beautiful thing you've ever heard?"

"No, it isn't. And singing can be dangerous." Merlin cast about and his eyes alighted on a small crop of mushrooms growing out of the stone at the base of the wall. He plucked one: it was thick and spongey. "Perfect." He tore the mushroom's generous cap in two, and stuck a piece in each ear. 

He picked another one and offered it to Arthur.

Arthur looked cross and said something. 

"What?" said Merlin.

"I'm not hungry, Merlin!" Arthur yelled.

"No, stick it in your ear."

"What?"

"Pardon?"

"I said 'what'?"

""Oh, sorry, I thought you said 'hat'."

"Why on earth would I say 'hat'? Are you going deaf?"

"No, I've got a mushroom in my ear."

Arthur peered into Merlin's ear. "What are you playing at, Merlin? This isn't the time to be messing around."

"I'm not! I'm trying to protect you. The singing could be an enchantment. Remember the sorceress who posed as Lady Helen?"

"The night I got lumbered with you as my servant? How could I forget?"

"I did save your life that night," said Merlin reproachfully. "Although sometimes I have no idea why I bothered."

"So you think the singing is an enchantment? Why?"

"Just stick the mushroom in your ear."

Arthur gave Merlin a look that could have withered plants, but he did as he was told.

Merlin focused his attention back on the tower. He could still hear the faint echo of a melody, but more than that, he could feel the magic for sure now. But it didn't feel like Morgauses's style, somehow. Her magic was strong, direct, powerful, like a weapon. This was soft, intricate. Almost coy. Like finely wrought silver-work or a finely carved-

"Okay, I'm going in."

"Arthur, no!"

"Merlin, do I have to remind you yet again who's in charge?"

Arthur had thankfully lost the dreamy-enchanted expression, but Merlin wasn't sure he liked the resolute bravery that had taken its place. "It could be a trap. People don't go around singing songs of enchantment for no reason. We could come back later, with more men. And better ear plugs. Something in wax, maybe."

"I'm taking a closer look. You can stay here if you're scared, Merlin, I won't tell anyone."

"Arthur!" Merlin hissed. But Arthur was already creeping along the wall, low and stealthy, and surprisingly still with mushroom stuffed in his ears.

"It's a wonder you don't just hit him. I would."

Merlin jumped, startled, and span around to find himself face-to-face with the girl from the market. 

She seemed to have grown wings since he last saw her.

"All right, who _are_ you?" Merlin demanded.

"I have a few different names, actually."

"Very well - so _what_ are you, exactly?"

"That's a bit rude. And I thought you were so nice, last time we met. Perhaps I was wrong."

Merlin folded his arms across his chest. "Perhaps you were. In which case, perhaps you should be answering my questions."

"He won't find what he's looking for in that tower, you know."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

She smiled, and her wings gave a few lazy beats, like a basking butterfly. "You're being ridiculous."

"I don't like having conversations in riddles. If you want to say something, why don't you come right out with it?"

"You're no fun, Emrys. Really, I thought you'd be more fun."

Merlin's stomach fluttered. "That's not my name."

"We both know it is. Would you rather I called you Merlin? I could try, if you like, but don't blame me if I forget."

"Look, I've got a lot to do and it's probably going to get quite dangerous, and I don't need any more pointless distractions. You didn't just pop up by accident, did you?"

"No, I didn't just 'pop up', as you call it,' she said irritably. "I'm here to help you."

"How?"

"If you don't like riddles, I could give you a cryptic rhyme, maybe?"

"Just talk like a normal person, not a… whatever you are."

"Those you seek are not in the tower."

"Oh. It wasn't Morgause the overseer gave sanctuary to, then?"

"No. It was a different creature all together. And she brought the Ladies."

"What ladies? From the Big House, you mean?"

The girl wriggled her body, wings fluttering. "It doesn't feel right, just _saying_ things. It makes me feel cheap, like some common messenger."

"What ladies?"

"The the ones your friend is trying to sneak up on. I have to say, he's not doing terribly well."

"What do you mean?"

But Merlin had only to glance over his shoulder to realise she was right. Even as Arthur crept up the path to the tower, a group of faces watched him from the windows above.

They were beautiful, like young girls, but there was something about their angular features, the slanted eyes, and especially the point-tipped ears, that gave Merlin a sinking feeling in his stomach.

"They're-"

"-Sirens," she finished for him. "Well, specifically fresh-water sirens."

"Oh no," said Merlin. "That's not good at all. I made him put mushrooms in his ears, will that save him?"

"Well, it might help." She peered at him a little more closely. "You may as well take yours out though. They really don't like the magic. It leaves you with too much free will. Spoils their games."

Merlin clapped his hands protectively over his ears. "I'll leave it in, just in case, if you don't mind."

She shrugged. "They're your ears. Are you going to go and rescue him, then?"

Merlin sighed. "Of course. It's what I do."

She gave him a grave nod. "Well," she said, and held out her hand. "Good luck, Merlin. And my name's Carlin. At the moment."

"Thank you, Carlin." Merlin took her hand and shook it. 

He squared his shoulders and walked towards the tower, glancing over his shoulder. She was sitting on the wall, kicking her booted heels against the stone. She appeared to be eating an apple.

Sometimes Merlin wished he'd stayed in Ealdor after all.

*

The inside of the tower was quiet, apparently deserted. From outside Merlin had counted a likely four storeys, and a spiral staircase rose from the centre of the ground floor, presumably linking them. There were a few bits of broken furniture scattered around and a good many cobwebs. The windows from the inside looked bare and grimy, despite appearing cheerfully clean and curtained from outside.

Merlin crept to the stairs, and began to climb. It was agonisingly slow. The stairs were metal and rattled horribly; Merlin's boots threatened to clang on them with every step. He kept alert, constantly aware of a hum, the steady beat of someone else's magic. He could hear voices - not singing, thankfully - but the voices were inside his head rather than outside, and as he made his way up the stairs they got louder, and louder, and louder.

The second floor was as dusty and abandoned as the first; the third even more so. On the fourth floor there were footprints in the dust: small, delicate feet, several pairs, and one set of bigger, heavier ones.

There were little drops of water here and there, as if it had begun to rain.

Merlin followed the footprints that led, inevitably, to the fifth floor.

He paused with his foot on the next step. This was wrong. 

There had only been four floors, four sets of windows, the last set close to the roof of the tower. The roof had a gentle slope; there was no attic. 

Cautiously, Merlin pulled the mushroom from his ears. There was no sound, other than a breeze rattling a broken window in its rotting frame.

He took a deep breath, and climbed the final flight of stairs.

The room at the top was bathed in golden light which wasn't quite coming from the window. The air smelled sweet, like summer meadows, and in the centre of the room, impossibly, was a fountain, carved from a smooth, white stone that Merlin hadn't seen before. It was tall and elegant, water cascading from its peak to surround the relief of figures beneath with a curtain of water. Around the fountain shone a pool of sparkling, dancing water, and around the pool was a wide ledge, strewn with cushions and pillows. 

Reclining on the ledge, watching a beautiful girl peel him a grape, was Arthur. His armour lay in a heap at the foot of the ledge, his sword resting on top.

Merlin sighed heavily. "Arthur, what are you doing?"

The girl popped the grape in Arthur's mouth and giggled.

There was a good deal of silk wafting around, but not much of it was covering the girls gathered around Arthur. They were very beautiful, and Merlin wasn't quite sure where to look, other than trying hard to avoid the places he really _wanted_ to look.

"Arthur," he said, as firmly as he could. "You probably won't believe me, but you're in grave danger."

"Get me some more wine, Merlin, would you?"

"Very, very grave danger. Seriously. And look-" Merlin pointed at Arthur's ears. "You lost your mushrooms."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Your mushroom, to stop the…." Merlin covered his ears and mimed singing; Arthur stared incredulously at him.

"Oh, I give up," said Merlin, exasperated. "You know what? You just carry on. Stay here forever with the scantily clad women. I don't care."

"I'm sure that's very generous of you, Merlin," Arthur said drily, settling himself back on the pillows. 

"Oh, there is one thing, though," Merlin said.

"Hmm?" Arthur was barely paying him the slightest attention; his eyes were fixed firmly on the girl with the grapes, and he had the most stupid grin on his face.

"What do you want me to tell Gwen?"

Merlin watched Arthur's face closely: there was a flicker of something in his eyes; he frowned, as if he were trying to remember something.

"Gwen," said Merlin, softly. "Your one true love. You remember Gwen?"

The room went quiet; the sirens waited as still and tense as Merlin was for the answer.

After a long moment, Arthur shrugged. He reached for another grape; the sirens breathed, a unanimous sigh.

"She's the love of your life!" cried Merlin. "How can you forget her? _Arthur_!"

The room was suddenly full of laughter; tinkling like crystal bells.

"What are you finding so funny?" Merlin snapped at the nearest siren.

"You," she said, and danced, still laughing, to join her sisters at Arthur's side.

"What do you mean by that? I should warn you, I'm having a very difficult day and I'm not in the mood for this. Not at all."

"You bring your difficulties upon yourself, Warlock."

The girl patted the ledge in front of her.

Merlin swallowed down panic and watched Arthur carefully, but no flicker of a reaction crossed his features. 

"I'm no warlock," Merlin said. "You must have me mistaken for someone else."

"Join us," the girl said. "Let us show you how simple things can really be."

"Oh no you don't." Merlin shook his head vigorously. "I'll just be taking my friend Arthur here and going home, if it's all the same to you."

The girls pouted and made sad, disappointed noises. 

"Merlin, how could you?" said Arthur, reproachfully. "You made them sad."

"Come on, Arthur. This is insane. Morgause isn't here. Let's go."

"I'll teach you some manners first," Arthur said. He turned to the girl next to him, smiled and took her hand. He pressed a soft kiss to her knuckles. "You should always treat a lady chivalrously. With respect."

"Believe me, Arthur, these aren't ladies."

"Merlin! Take that back! Where's your sense of honour?!"

" _My_ sense of honour? I'm not the one cavorting with a bunch of half-naked girls I only just met! What about _Gwen_ , Arthur?"

"You keep saying that, Merlin, and I hardly see how it's relevant."

"Argh! This is hopeless! We keep going round and round in circles."

"Yes," said the girl who was still holding Arthur's hand. "Why not sit down and you can forget all about it?"

"She's right, Merlin," said Arthur. "Sit down. That's an order."

"Fine!" said Merlin. "But I'm not going to fall under any spells, or forget who I am or why I'm here. Just to get that absolutely clear with everybody."

Merlin sat sullenly on the cushioned ledge.

It was surprisingly comfortable. Warm. The voices around them were sweet and musical, relaxing.

In three breaths, Merlin was lost.

*

 

Everything was easy. 

There was sunshine and a soft breeze, and the ledge seemed bigger; as wide as a bed. There was only this bed, this sunshine, the music and the magic, and nothing mattered. The girls started to undress Arthur but Merlin shooed them away; that was _his_ job. They giggled and settled around to watch as Merlin peeled off boots, socks, trousers. He gestured towards a nearby table and a jug poured itself, filling two goblets with mead. He floated them across the room, all the time aware that Arthur was watching him, watching him do magic, not with fear or anger but with a sense of wonder and curiosity.

At last, Merlin could share himself properly with Arthur. All of him. Not with any grand gesture or big display but with simplicity and trust.

They drank the mead. Then Merlin straddled Arthur, settling back to sit on him and whispering "Hold still."

Arthur opened his mouth to say something, possibly to protest, but it was as if he forgot his objection as soon as he had formed the words; he lay back and watched.

Merlin spread his fingers wide and whispered them over Arthur's bare chest. Wherever he touched Arthur's skin a sparkling golden trail appeared, and Arthur gasped and strained his muscles against the invisible bonds that held him.

"Do you want me to let you go?" Merlin asked, gently touching Arthur's wrists.

A pause stretched into a silence bordering on lengthy before Arthur slowly shook his head. Merlin raised an eyebrow and Arthur silently mouthed, "No."

Merlin smiled, and ran his fingers once more down Arthur's chest. This time he kept going, until he held down Arthur's hips. He wriggled down his body until his nose was scant inches away from Arthur's cock. He heard a sigh from the girls around them as he kissed the soft, quivering skin of Arthur's belly, and his lips left the same trail of magic as his fingertips. Arthur let out the tiniest of moans, and squirmed under Merlin's touch.

Merlin had never known anything like this. Arthur would never dream of letting anyone take control, never mind actually lying there in a state of bliss, enjoying every second of it. 

Merlin licked Arthur's cock from root to tip, tongue flat, lips trailing, without magic first, and then again with. Arthur let out a cry and arched off the bed; his breathing was fast and shallow, his eyelids fluttered; his fingers twitched. 

Merlin smiled.

He took Arthur's cock into his mouth and engulfed him with magic. 

Arthur tensed hard for a count of one… two… three… and then Merlin felt him relax, all at once, sinking back into the softer-than-soft bed, breath slowing on a long sigh as Arthur let the magic flow into him. Accepted it. Welcomed it. Let Merlin bathe him in it, all strength and power and beauty. 

Merlin released Arthur from the magical bonds, and felt Arthur's fingers touch his hair. Gentle. Soft. Approving.

Time blurred a little.

Merlin lay on his back, aware of the spray from the fountain speckling his skin wet. There was a girl on his right and beyond her, Arthur. Merlin's fingers trailed across soft breasts, stiff nipples; he was kissed and whispered to, stroked and flattered. A blur of touch and quiet sounds. Two girls at Arthur's other side were kissing, breasts brushing breasts; Arthur watched, slack-jawed, eyes shining. The girl between them arched, begging for touch.

Merlin's fingers met Arthur's between her legs, and together they stroked and touched and rubbed until she was soft and wet, and it felt like honey dripping from his fingers.

Arthur kissed him.

_~Emrys~_

Arthur's tongue twisted around his own, insistent, demanding, and Merlin's magic rose. 

_~Emrys~_

All he wanted was this. All he'd ever wanted….

"Merlin." Arthur pressed Merlin's name into his jaw, his neck, his chin, his mouth. "Merlin, Merlin, Merlin…."

But another voice cut through time and space and magic. "Emrys!" and Merlin sat bolt upright. 

"You're in great danger, you know."

Merlin blinked; time shifted. He was suddenly, brutally aware that he was naked, spread out on a dusty wooden floor in the middle of… an orgy.

He screwed his eyes tight shut and opened them again, but it was the same. 

"Merlin," Arthur chided. "What're you doing? Lie down."

Arthur's fingers traced patterns up and down Merlin's back; Merlin felt everything go soft and strange and-

"Emrys!" It was a girl's voice. Merlin frowned. "Emrys, can you even remember what you came here for?"

There had been something, possibly, maybe, but whenever he tried to corner the memory and understand it, it flowed away, like the mercury he'd spilt on Gaius's workbench that time, years and years and years ago….

Years and years….

"Emrys!"

He thought he saw a flutter of wings, perhaps…

"Oh, for goodness sake!"

Yes, there she was. The girl from the market. Carlin. She made a tiny gesture with her fingers and time slowed. Magic roared in Merlin's ears as he came back to himself. Arthur and the sirens were still, frozen in the moment. The scene reminded Merlin of some exotic engravings he'd once found in a dark corner of the hall of records. 

"Oh!" he said, and grabbed a cushion to cover himself with.

"At last," Carlin said. 

"You mustn't look!" Merlin said. "It's not… it's…. Rude. You're too young!"

She laughed; nothing like the tinkling sound of the sirens but a hearty chuckle. "I'm a lot older than I look," she said. "It's nothing I haven't seen before, I promise you."

"Well, that's good," said Merlin, relieved. "Seriously? You've seen this before?"

"You wouldn't believe. Come on. You have to get Arthur out of here."

"That's going to take some doing."

"It would have been a lot easier if you'd persuaded him earlier, you know."

"I tried! I did! I just got a bit, sort of carried away."

"I can see that." Carlin snorted, and Merlin wished the cushion were a little bigger. It wasn't offering much by way of modesty, and certainly no dignity.

"I've seen it all before," she said, as if she'd read his mind.

"What if I just wait until he's, um, finished?"

"He'll never be finished. They'll keep going until they've drained him dry. How long do you think you've been here?"

"About half an hour? An hour, maybe?"

"Look out of the window."

It was dark outside. Pitch black, with twinkling stars.

"Oh no. That's very bad."

"Exactly," Carlin said. "See what I mean about the peril?"

Merlin felt naked and vulnerable, and yet the pull of the sirens persisted. Arthur was oblivious, writhing in pleasure with them, skin glowing with magic. 

"Very, very bad," said Merlin. "We need a plan. And trousers. I really need trousers."

"That's better," she said. "Good warlock."

She watched as he scrabbled about for his clothes, scattered as they were around the room. Merlin dressed quickly, cheeks raging with embarrassment even though Carlin was keeping her gaze fixed firmly on her fingernails as if they were the most fascinating things in the universe.

Her wings beat in magic time, slow as a sleeping breath.

"I need your help," said Merlin, pulling on his jacket at last. "Can you help me?"

"I've done a pretty good job so far."

"Yes, you have, and I'm grateful, really I am. I need you to release time, so I can get Arthur out of here. But as soon as I've got him, slow things down again, so we can escape. Can you do that?"

"I don't know how long it'll hold once he's gone. They won't let go without a fight."

"Just do what you can. Please?"

"I'll try. Arthur won't want to leave, you know."

"Leave that to me. I have an idea." Merlin stood tall and pulled his shoulders back. "All right. I'm ready."

Carlin clicked her fingers; her eyes flashed gold and time flickered to normal.

"Arthur!" Merlin yelled. "Arthur, come quick! Gwen's in danger! I found Morgana! Your father's demanding to see you and Camelot's under attack from a whole horde of…. Of… of… elephants! Lots of elephants! Huge, great, fire-breathing elephants! Come on, Arthur! For Camelot!"

Arthur sat bolt upright. "Merlin? What?"

"Come _on_ , Arthur! Gwen! Morgana! For Camelot!"

"Elephants?"

Carlin giggled; Merlin scooped up Arthur's clothes, grabbed his hand and tugged. "Arthur, now! _Please_!"

Arthur rose, dazed and blinking, casting a confused eye at the sirens who were already making a move to pull him back. But Arthur allowed Merlin to manhandle him to his feet, to drag him to the door and push.

The hairs on the back of Merlin's neck stood up as Carlin slowed time again behind them.

He pushed Arthur downstairs and kept pushing; every few moments Arthur would try to turn and go back, but by sheer stubborn determination and a lot of shouting, "Do you _want_ Camelot to fall, Arthur? Do you?" Merlin managed to get him to the ground floor.

As he reached the door Merlin heard the siren's howl; vicious now, a bitter wail of anger. He glanced over his shoulder as he shoved Arthur through the door and saw a fury of teeth and talons. Merlin pushed Arthur again, with magic this time, got them both a few feet clear of the tower, and then, dragging the dazed and still reluctant Arthur with him, Merlin summoned all his strength and ran.

*

Reality returned to Arthur step by step as they fled the tower, and by the time they reached the end of the walled path he had a face like thunder. Merlin glanced back at the tower and saw a light in the very top window. It flickered once, twice, and then went out; there was a scream like a banshee and Merlin thought perhaps he saw something glide from the window, disappearing into the blackness of the night. 

"What was that?" Arthur said.

"I'm not sure. But I think we'd better head back to the town right away."

"Agreed."

"Good," said Merlin. "Here."

He shoved Arthur's clothes at him; Arthur looked down and blinked as if he had no idea what they were.

There was a pause, and then Arthur said, in a voice so plaintive Merlin couldn't help but feel sorry for him, "Merlin, why am I naked?"

"I'll tell you on the way back," said Merlin. "Come on. You'll catch your death of cold out here like that."

*

They arrived back at the inn at around midnight, to find Leon, Odric and the rest of the knights waiting anxiously for them in the main room. Tired and hungry as Arthur was, it was as always his first priority to reassure his men and hear their news. He told them nothing of what had happened at the tower except that there was no sign of Morgause, and Merlin certainly felt no urge to fill in further details himself. He fetched Arthur roasted chicken and spiced wine from the kitchen, while the knights mulled over their position.

"It is disappointing news, Sire," Sir Leon said. "But never fear. Lady Morgana is the bravest and most resourceful young lady I have ever met." He clapped a reassuring hand on Arthur's shoulder. "We will find her safe and well, my Lord. I'm sure of it."

Arthur clasped Leon's arm gratefully, and nodded. 

There were other reports: Cenred's army had been running sorties across the border and there was a lot of bandit activity in the West. Strange lights had been seen above the ruins at Neath, to the North. Merlin found himself drifting, thoughts wandering over the day's events in a hazy, fitful way. He was all but dozing on his feet when he felt a nudge at his elbow.

"Here," said a deep, clear voice. "You should eat, too."

Merlin's eyes opened to see Leonard, Sir Odric's manservant, holding out a tray. There was bread and stew and beer, and it smelt so good that Merlin's stomach rumbled.

Arthur was intent in conversation with his knights, already half way through his own meal, so Merlin slipped away to a table in the corner to eat. Leonard sat opposite him, nursing a tankard of very dark ale.

"Thanks," said Merlin. "This is great."

"Somebody has to serve the servants, eh?"

"I'm used to fending for myself," said Merlin, with a polite smile. "Sir Odric seems nice, though. Not too demanding."

A smile twisted Leonard's lips. "He has his moments."

"Really?"

"I could barely sit down last Beltane."

Merlin's spoon splashed into his bowl, his eyes wide with shock. "You mean he _beats_ you?!" It wasn't unknown for servants to be punished harshly, but it was frowned upon among the knights and Odric had seemed so nice.

But Leonard was chuckling into his ale. He looked at Merlin as if he had some sort of defect. "Surely you've heard the gossip."

"Gossip? No. What do you mean?"

"You must be a bit sheltered, being the Prince's manservant and all. You do know there are other ways of getting a sore backside than getting birched?"

"Being on horseback all day?" Merlin ventured.

But Leonard laughed again. "No, lad, _pleasurable_ ways."

Realisation dawned; Merlin blushed scarlet and made an incoherent sort of squeak.

"I thought you'd know, of all people," Leonard said. "I always had an inkling that you and Prince Arthur…."

"What?" said Merlin. "No! No, no. I've no idea what gave you that idea."

Leonard raised an amused eyebrow. 

"I mean," Merlin continued. "He's the Prince."

"Ah," said Leonard, still smiling.

Silence settled between them. Merlin ate his stew, trying desperately and in vain to think of a new topic of conversation. But he couldn't shake the thought of Arthur; a bright memory filled his mind, of a time when they'd stumbled back to Arthur's rooms after a knighting ceremony, both drunk but not _too_ drunk; Merlin had managed to pull a muscle from getting fucked senseless bent over Arthur's desk.

"Even Princes have needs," said Leonard, gently.

"Arthur doesn't need me any more," said Merlin, sad from nostalgia, ale and exhaustion. "Not that way. He's completely dedicated to searching for Morgana. And one day he'll get married to a girl, a nice, special girl, who he loves."

"Is that right?" said Leonard with a wry grin. 

"He has to, he's a King. Will be a King. Kings get married. And I don't want to get in the way. I'm not bitter or anything. Have you ever been married?"

Leonard glanced across at Odric, who was causing riotous laughter to the knights with a bawdy tale. Merlin caught the look, noticed the softness of Leonard's gaze.

"No," Leonard said. "Never got around to it."

"It's a big step." Merlin took a gulp from his tankard. "Not for everyone."

"Certainly nothing for you to be worrying about," said Leonard, and that could be taken so many different ways it made Merlin's head spin. "Think about it," Leonard continued. "The Prince is in a tricky position. He's a normal, healthy young man with a normal, healthy young man's needs. He can't go whoring, because he's a noble. He can't go tumbling serving wenches because he can't risk having bastards. So where does that leave him? He needs some kind of an outlet."

"Um," said Merlin.

Leonard gave him a shrewd look. "You know what I'm talking about, boy."

Merlin tried to smile kindly at the man, but his head was spinning; Gwen was his friend, and Arthur was so honourable, there was his destiny… and then he remembered the sirens and he rather wanted to cry, which was pathetic beyond the telling of it.

"I think I need some air," Merlin said, forcing himself to get up and saunter towards the door casually, rather than bolt for it as his instincts screamed at him to do.

*

The air was cool and fresh outside, and Merlin revelled in it. He leaned against the wall of the tavern, staring up at the moon and stars and trying very hard not to think.

"You got back all right then."

Carlin was sitting on an upturned beer barrel under the pub sign, wearing the same clothes as when he'd first met her. There wasn't so much as a hint of her wings to be seen.

"What are you, exactly?" Merlin said.

"I told you before, that's not very polite."

"Sorry. It's just that in my experience it can be quite important, knowing what things are."

"I'm not a thing!"

"Sorry. I didn't mean it like that, I was talking more generally. Know your enemy, sort of thing."

"Well, I'm not your enemy," said Carlin, huffily. "I would have thought that was quite obvious after I saved your neck this afternoon."

Merlin slumped back against the wall. "I'm sorry. It's been a long day. And thanks. I couldn't have saved Arthur without you."

"Oh, I expect you'd have thought of something. You must do this a lot, I would imagine."

"Save Arthur's life? Yeah, you could say that."

"I was thinking more about saving him from love spells and the like. I've never seen anyone so susceptible. They usually have to weave all sorts of enchantments and cast detailed illusions. Not for your Arthur. One quick chorus of 'come to us, sweet prince,' and there he is, locked in carnal delight for the rest of time."

"What about me, though? You said they wouldn't want me and I could resist them, but they were very powerful. Am I susceptible too?"

She surveyed him critically for a moment, then shook her head. "No, you're a warlock, after all. I think your susceptibility is in another direction, to be honest."

"What do you mean?"

"I'll give you a clue," Carlin said. She raised her hand up above her head. "About yay high, covered in armour, big blue eyes and brain the size of a pea."

"Arthur?!"

Carlin giggled. "Yep. Warlock's in looove."

"I am so _not_ in love with Arthur."

"Really?"

"I like girls!"

"I remember." Carlin smirked in a way which looked completely wrong on such a young face. "But you like Arthur more."

Merlin's cheeks blazed hot. He wasn't sure whether he wished he'd drunk less ale, or regretted that he hadn't drunk a lot more. "I don't even know why I'm discussing this with you," he said, weakly.

"Really?"

"It's like a conspiracy. First Leonard and now you."

"It doesn't take much to see that the two of you have a connection. Come on, Merlin. I'm surely not the first one to notice it."

"I'm his servant."

"Of course you are."

"We have a destiny together. A _destiny_. That's all."

"Hmm."

Merlin glared at the low, wooden stable building on the opposite side of the street, and Carlin hummed to herself, studiously examining the hem of her sleeve. Eventually Merlin gathered his wits and decided that it was time for bed: it had been a long and extremely tiring day and all he really wanted now was sleep. Perhaps, he hoped vainly, it would all seem all right in the morning.

"The thing is," he said, "it doesn't matter what I want, with Arthur. Like you said, he's susceptible to women. Not me."

"Susceptible to _enchantment_ , I said."

Merlin gave a tiny, wan smile. "Isn't that what love is?"

"Oh, warlock. So sad. It works both ways, don't you see that? The enchantment with the sirens was so strong, but you broke it nonetheless."

"It's far more complicated than that."

"Arthur? Complicated? Seems a pretty straightforward sort of chap to me."

"He's in love with a girl. She loves him too. One day they'll get married and live happily ever after." Merlin frowned. "Actually, it's not so complicated, come to think of it. It _is_ pretty straightforward, isn't it?"

"Has she enchanted him?"

"No! She's my friend! She's just really, really nice. I'm happy for them. Really, I am."

"Emrys, what did the dragon tell you?"

Merlin flinched at the name and blurted out, defensively, "What dragon?"

"There is only one dragon. Kilgharrah."

The name was still new and precious; it resonated with a seam of magic deep, deep inside him and made his heart sing. But at the same time it brought memories of fire and smoke and a sharp, raw hurt.

"He said a lot of things. A lot of them were riddles and some of them really weren't true. What's that got to do with anything?"

Carlin rolled her eyes. "It's a wonder he didn't just eat you, if you're always this dense."

"Dragons don't eat people. That's a myth. They just set fire to them."

"I was speaking _metaphorically_."

"Well, perhaps if you didn't, I might understand better?"

Carlin fidgeted crossly on her beer barrel. "You and Arthur have a destiny. Is that straightforward enough for your tiny wizard brain?"

"Hey! I'm not stupid! Well, not unless I have to be. I know we have a destiny. Believe me, I know."

"Destinies are funny things," Carlin said, softly. "You might know where you're going, warlock, but you might yet be surprised as to how you get there."

There was a breeze, a flicker of torchlight, and she was gone.

*

Merlin opened the door to the room he was sharing with Arthur. He did so silently, or near enough, and peeped inside, expecting Arthur to be asleep. 

But he wasn't. He was sitting on a chest by the window, staring out at the night sky.

"Merlin," Arthur said, without turning from the window.

"I'm sorry I wasn't here to help you prepare for bed."

"Odric's servant said you had too much ale and had to go clear your head."

"Um…"

"You really should be careful around taverns. You know what you're like."

"Yes, Sire. Are you all right? I thought you'd be in bed by now."

"Couldn't sleep. I failed again, Merlin. If I'd reached the tower sooner, before Morgause had left…"

"We don't know she was there for certain. It might not have been her at all. We've no proof."

"No. I suppose not." Arthur looked down at the stone windowsill, picking at the rough surface with a fingernail. "But it's still the closest we've had to a lead in weeks and I felt so sure. And if it was her, she was alone. What does that mean for Morgana?"

Merlin crossed to the bed and began turning down the covers. It was quite a grand bed for an inn, with thick blankets and crisp, clean sheets. Merlin's own bed, a pallet in the corner of the room, was basic but similarly clean and well blanketed, and at that moment extremely attractive. He felt as though he could sleep for a week. "It means we keep looking."

"Yes. Yes, Merlin. For once."

Merlin let that pass. "Is there anything else you need, Sire?"

"No. You may as well get some rest, we head back to Camelot tomorrow. I need to consult with the Council before planning our next move."

"As you wish. I'll be right-" Merlin paused for a long, noisy yawn, "-here if you need me."

With that he collapsed on the pallet, barely pausing to take his boots off before he slid under the covers.

He dozed, distantly aware of Arthur getting into bed. Arthur blew out the candle and the room was cast in shadows, soft in the moonlight that drifted through the window, the full moon as bright as weak sunshine. 

"Merlin," Arthur said. 

"Yes, Arthur?"

Arthur cleared his throat. "The tower. Today."

"Yes, Arthur?"

"It's all a bit foggy, I'm not sure what was real and what wasn't. At one point I thought you were using magic. You! Can you believe it? Ha!"

Merlin was suddenly wide awake. "Really?" he said, a lot more calmly than he felt.

"I know. Ludicrous."

"Completely, Sire. Haha! Ridiculous."

"Do you remember anything?"

"Oh, yes. Clear as day. And I certainly wasn't doing any magic."

"I need to know whether…. That is if I…."

"Yes, Arthur?"

"Or if you… I mean… the thing is, was everyone there… willing?"

"Willing, Sire?"

"Yes. I realise that a lot of things that happened were simple illusions, but I was concerned that perhaps I….. Merlin, when you… joined us."

"Yes?"

"I need to know whether you were enchanted or not."

"Well yes, of course I was."

There was a long silence that Merlin struggled to interpret.

"I mean," Merlin continued, "I don't just climb willy nilly into bed with a bunch of strange women, as a rule."

"Or men?"

"No! No strange anybody! Really, Arthur, did you honestly think I would-"

"So what you did with me… it was against your will?"

Suddenly everything fell into place and Merlin understood. He could see Arthur's profile, and even in silhouette it looked anxious.

"No," said Merlin. "Not with you. Believe me, Arthur, you are far from enchanting."

Arthur gave a bark of a laugh: plain relief. 

"Now go to sleep," said Merlin. "Or I'll tell Gwen."

*

The next morning Arthur gathered his knights and informed them of the next stage of their search. Leon was to lead a party to the Eastern borders, to see what Cenred was up to. The rest of them would return to Camelot for supplies, and meet Leon's party in a week's time at the village of Highthorne, which was rumoured to have been abandoned after repeated attacks from Cenred's men. Abandoned places were ideal resting places for criminals and sorcerers. He thanked Odric for the intelligence and although Odric kept his expression carefully schooled, Merlin could see he was all but bursting with pride at helping his prince.

The group broke up and Leon led his men away, leaving their much diminished party to prepare for the ride back to Camelot. Merlin murmured something about needing supplies, and slipped away to the market.

He found Carlin at the stall where he'd first met her. She wore an apron over her white linen dress, and her hair was escaping from what had probably started out that morning as a neatish bun. Merlin watched her as she tucked a few errant tendrils behind her ear and smiled at her customers. The wings were notably absent. 

"Merlin!" she said, as he approached the stall. She was tying little leather price tags to rolls of parchment. "Out for a stroll again?"

"Well, we're leaving, so. Last chance really."

"And how's Arthur this morning? Free of enchantments?"

"He was the last time I looked, but that's no guarantee. He does tend to get himself enchanted the minute my back's turned - I'd probably better not be too long. But, I wanted to say thank you for helping us yesterday."

Carlin smiled. "That's okay. I have my own reasons for wanting Arthur alive and well. He could make a good King one day, if the legends are to be believed."

"Theoretically," said Merlin, with a bit of a grin. 

"Emrys." Her eyes were suddenly sharp and focused, and there was a hint of power about her. "Look after him. He's not just Albion's best hope - he's our _only_ hope. Do you understand?"

"Yes," said Merlin, softly. He held her gaze for a few beats, something like magic tight and sparkling between them, then Carlin stirred herself with a shake.

"I mustn't keep you. Arthur will be waiting."

"Yeah. I was going to buy something, actually."

Carlin looked at the things on the stall in front of her as if surprised to see them there. "Oh. What would you like?"

"How much is that notebook? The one with the tree etched on the cover?"

"Two pennies. I'll throw in a few free quills for another ha'penny, as it's you."

Merlin's eyes narrowed; it seemed a suspiciously generous bargain.

"Still don't trust me?"

She looked quite offended; Merlin handed over the money and tried to look apologetic while she wrapped his purchases in a scrap of linen and tied the bundle with string. "There you go." She handed over the package, jingling the coins in her palm. "Off you go, warlock."

"Will I see you again?"

"Perhaps. Who knows where destiny might lead us?"

"Until then, then."

"Yes, Merlin. Until then."

Merlin slipped the package into his bag, and went to find Arthur.

*

 

Merlin stood, respectfully and invisibly, and watched as Arthur and the King pored over the map on the big table in the Council chambers, moving little counters here and there as if planning a campaign of war. 

"We have to take the search to the North or the West," Arthur said. "The Southern lands have been searched thoroughly and our allies there are keeping watch. We have covered as much of the East as we dare, bearing in mind the risks of running into Cenred's men."

"I don't care who we run into," said Uther. "She must be found."

"I agree, father, of course. But thinking strategically, given that she could be anywhere, it makes sense to leave the most dangerous places until last. I suggest we look to the North."

"The Northern borders are always a matter of concern."

"I think we should search the outlying villages there and investigate some rumours about the unusual occurrences at the ruins at Neath. I understand from Gaius that it is a site of some importance to sorcerers."

Merlin suppressed a smile and kept his eyes fixed firmly on the pillar opposite where he stood. Arthur knew perfectly well that Neath was important to sorcerers; he'd seen it for himself no more than six months ago, when Aloysius and the Lady led them into a trap for the wizard Eryr. Merlin always enjoyed it when Arthur told his father these little half-truths - and when Merlin wasn't the only one keeping secrets.

"That does look promising," Uther said. "In fact, tell Gaius to prepare a list of all the likely sites of magical interest that Morgause might use. It is true that sorcerers, like rats, run back to their breeding ground to hide."

"I'll bear that in mind, Father," said Arthur, with the mask of patience on his face that he tended to put there when his father got especially fanatical in his hatred of magic. Merlin kept very determinedly and carefully still.

"Leave at first light for the villages to the North," Uther said. "Take Sir Leon with you, and any other of my more seasoned knights. It could be especially dangerous."

"Thank you, Sire."

Uther straightened his back with a creaking sound and a long sigh, and went to fill his goblet with wine from the jug that always stood close at hand. The jug had needed to be filled more and more often since Morgana had gone missing, and Uther's hand trembled a little more each time he poured from it. 

Arthur and Merlin left him alone in the Council Chamber, and went to prepare for yet another journey.

*

"Thank you again," Gaius said, smoothing his thumb over the soft leather binding of the notebook Merlin had given him. "It's very finely made. I hope it didn't cost you too much?"

"Don't be silly," said Merlin, pleased and smiling. "It's nothing, really."

"Was it a good market, then, in Grassmere?"

Merlin recognised the glint in the old man's eye. "Nothing unusual. No herbs or medicines or anything. I did look."

"That's a pity. I always like to keep an eye open for new suppliers."

"I know." Merlin shoved a spare shirt into his bag, squashing it down as hard as he could. "I did meet someone interesting, though."

"Really? I hope you were careful."

"Oh Gaius, seriously. I'm _always_ careful."

"I know you mean to be. But sometimes-"

"This person already knew who I was anyway."

Suddenly Merlin had Gaius's full attention. He even put the notebook down.

"She knew you had magic?"

"She called me Emrys, the whole deal. I'm pretty sure she had magic herself, or something like it. She even knows Kilgharrah."

"Merlin! Who was she?"

"She said her name was Carlin."

"She told you her name? Hmm, that's interesting."

"Well, she said she had more than one. I know what that feels like."

"It's common among magical creatures. Go on."

"She had wings only they weren't always there. Sometimes she looked more like a little girl."

"What kind of wings?"

"I don't know… smallish? Fluttery?"

"Were they feathered? Did they come from her back as separate limbs or were they part of the structure of her arms like bats? Or-"

"No! Not like a bat. No! Just… like faery wings. No feathers. They were sort of…" Merlin frowned, searching for the right word. "Ephemeral. Yeah, that's it. Ephemeral. Shimmery."

"But real?"

"They looked real. It's not like I touched them or anything. She was solid enough. Gaius, what is it? Do you know what she was?"

But Gaius was already off on the hunt, searching through a pile of books that perpetually teetered on his workbench. 

"I don't think she was dangerous," Merlin said. "She pretty much saved my life."

"From what you were saying," Gaius replied, skipping swiftly through the pages of a book, "she sounds like a faery."

"Like the Sidhe? Nooo. No. She was nothing like that. She wasn't blue, for one thing."

"There are many kinds of faeries, Merlin, they're not all like the Sidhe."

"Well, frankly that's a relief. They're not all evil, then?"

"Not all of them, no. But most of them are at least, well, shall we say mischievous."

"What about sirens? Are sirens faeries?"

Gaius put the book down, forgotten in a fresh moment of astonishment. "Sirens? What do you know about sirens?"

Merlin couldn't quite meet Gaius's eye - this wasn't a part of his adventure he'd been looking forward to sharing with him. He'd even considered keeping it to himself. But he didn't have time to do the research himself, with Arthur so anxious to get back out on the road, and besides, it was the kind of thing that Gaius would get really angry about not knowing if it came to light later.

"Perhaps I should start at the beginning," he said.

"Yes, Merlin. I really think you should."

"Hmm. Okay. Well, we went to investigate the tower, and there was this weird singing noise. So I told Arthur to stuff his ears with mushrooms, but it didn't work."

"Mushrooms, Merlin?"

"It's all there was. Anyway, he was his usual stubborn idiot self and went right in there. Then Carlin turned up, and told me that these fresh-water sirens - the Ladies, she called them - were in the tower, and that Arthur was in danger. So I rescued him."

"And was he in danger? What did they do?"

Merlin felt himself blush to his roots; this was the part he really didn't want to share with anyone, least of all Gaius. "They, um, seduced him. Apparently if I hadn't saved him he would have stayed seduced for eternity."

"Yes, that's what sirens do," Gaius said. "They call men to their doom, usually in the sea where they'll drown. Or fall prey to mermaids."

"Well, there wasn't enough water for that. Just a fountain."

"But you weren't affected?"

"No, no. Well. Not really."

Gaius arched an eyebrow.

"Well," Merlin continued. "I was a bit… out of it. Enchanted. Somewhat. But that's when Carlin saved me. She appeared and brought me to my senses, and then I saved Arthur."

"Enchanted?"

"Yes," said Merlin, firmly. "Enchanted."

"I see. So your magic didn't entirely protect you?"

"I would have come around eventually. Probably. Almost certainly," said Merlin. "But it might have been too late for Arthur. So, what do you think? Do you know what she is?"

"It's hard to say. But she fits the description of a corrigan. They're creatures of the old religion, with a strong association with the druids. They're generally benign beings, but they have no patience with the new ways and will go out of their way to cause mischief and trouble there."

"That would explain how she knew my name. The druids always seem to know who I am."

"Indeed. I must say, Merlin, it sounds as if you owe her your life, whoever she is."

"And Arthur's," said Merlin. "It makes a change to have someone on our side for once."

"Yes. Indeed." 

Gaius was worried about something, Merlin could tell by the furrow on his brow and the way he suddenly became interested in supper, all talk of faeries put to one side. But Merlin let it slide.

He knew Gaius wouldn't tell.

*

Two days later, on their way northwards, Arthur and Merlin rescued Morgana from bandits just south of Grassmere.

And, for a while at least, the lights at Neath were forgotten.


	3. Chapter 3

**PART TWO: Two years later.**

Lord Godwyn's castle looked like something out of a children's story. It was almost as breathtaking as Camelot itself: a cluster of elegant towers, sky-reaching walls and cheerful flags flying from the apex of perfectly pointed roofs.

Merlin was captivated. Usually when he went on trips with Arthur it involved sleeping on forest floors, hiding in caves or, at best, a room in an inn that smelt of beer and sweat and rusting mail. This was a different matter entirely. Of course, it was a royal visit, rather than a knightly quest. Riding behind Arthur and Merlin were a dozen knights, a full royal guard and a carriage in which rode Uther and Gaius. It was the first time the King had left the palace since Morgana's attempt to take Camelot from him two months ago. 

Merlin wasn't really sure Uther even knew where he was. 

"Do you think this'll work?" Merlin asked Arthur as they both paused at the castle gates, waiting to be met and admitted. 

"I don't know. I hope so. Lord Godwyn is probably my father's greatest friend outside of Camelot. If anyone can help him get well, he can."

Merlin gave him a sympathetic smile.

"I won't give up," said Arthur.

"Well, I think you're being very brave."

"How so?"

"Coming here, to Lord Godwyn's. After all, you're bound to bump into Princess Elena, and the way things went last time you met… well, it's bound to be embarrassing."

"Don't be ridiculous."

Merlin shook his head. "I don't know, Arthur. I mean, you left her at the altar. That's not something a girl forgets."

"Shut up, Merlin."

"I'm just saying."

"Yes," said Arthur, eyes narrowed. "That's the problem. Stop it."

The signal to move on was given and dull hoofbeats turned to clip-clops as they made their way up the paved entrance path to Lord Godwyn's castle. There was an honour guard flanking the drawbridge, and beyond in the courtyard stood the King and his daughter, more guards and a few servants ranged behind them.

Arthur led his party across the drawbridge, coming to a halt in the courtyard where he briskly dismounted. He gave Lord Godwyn a firm handshake, and Lord Godwyn patted him on the back. Elena allowed Arthur to kiss her hand. Her gown was the colour of burnt sugar, setting off her golden hair and fair skin to perfection. Merlin took a moment's pleasure in her obvious health: there seemed to be no lingering ill-effects from her days as a Sidhe changeling. She was positively glowing.

"And your father….?" said Lord Godwyn, a deep frown furrowing his brow.

"Too weak to ride, I'm afraid. He's in the carriage," said Arthur. 

"Oh dear," said Lord Godwyn. "He must hate that so."

Arthur made a non-committal sort of noise. They both looked towards the carriage but there was no sign of Uther emerging. 

"Sire, why don't you and the rest of the party go ahead with Lord Godwyn and the Princess?" Merlin said to Arthur in a low tone. "I'll help the King in his own time. We don't want to rush him after his long journey."

"Yes, Merlin," said Arthur, gratefully. "Good idea."

"My manservant will show you the way to the quarters we've set aside for the King," said Lord Godwyn, and signalled to a stocky, jovial-looking man, who nodded at Merlin and stood ready to help.

Merlin made sure everyone was halfway up the castle steps before he reached the carriage. The door opened and Gaius peeked out; Lord Godwyn's manservant fetched some steps and Gaius made his way gingerly down them.

"All right?" said Merlin, although he could tell from Gaius's face that it wasn't.

Gaius registered the servant's presence and smiled at him. "The King was feeling unwell. I was able to give him some medicine that did the trick, but it has induced something of a slumber. I fear he may not wake for another hour or so."

"I'm sorry to hear that," said the servant. "I could arrange for a litter, perhaps, so that we can take the King to his chambers and make his rest more comfortable."

"Splendid," said Gaius. "Thank you."

The servant bowed to Gaius, and ran off to complete his duties.

"What happened?" Merlin asked, as soon as the servant was out of earshot.

"He was jumping at shades and shadows all the way through the forest. I had no choice but to sedate him; he was convinced that Morgana was laying traps for him everywhere we looked."

"Unlikely. She hasn't been seen for months, why would she pop up in the middle of a forest?"

"Don't underestimate her, Merlin. Who knows how much her power is growing? If Morgause survived to continue to teach her…."

"Well, she wasn't in the forest, was she?"

"No. But poor Uther really thought she was. He sees her everywhere. I'm beginning to wonder if it was such a good idea to bring him out of Camelot after all. At least there he did not seem so very much afraid."

"Arthur was set on this trip. There's no arguing with him when he gets set on something."

"At least he can get some counsel from Lord Godwyn." Gaius sighed. "He has so much responsibility on his young shoulders."

"Don't I know it," mumbled Merlin.

Lord Godwyn's servant appeared from the stables, jogging towards them with two other men carrying a litter.

"He's very efficient," Merlin noted.

"Yes," said Gaius. "That's how servants are supposed to be, Merlin."

Merlin didn't dignify that with a reply.

*

 

Merlin sat with Gaius and the other Camelot servants at tables towards the back of Lord Godwyn's feasting-hall. The room was decked with fresh flowers, the scent of lilac and lavender drifting through the air. The food was plentiful and delicious even at the servants' table, and there was quite a lot of ale, which Merlin vowed to be careful with. Just in case. Even in friendly territory like this he didn't want to let his guard down.

He had a good view of the head table, where Arthur sat between Lord Godwyn and Princess Elena. There was an empty place at Lord Godwyn's other side; Uther was still sleeping in his chambers. 

Gwaine caught Merlin's eye across the hall, and raised his cup. Merlin grinned and raised his too.

"Don't get carried away now, Merlin," said Gaius. "There's a hunt tomorrow. We don't want you falling off your horse."

"I know. I'm the one who has to explain to Arthur's ferret why she can't have any supper tonight. She wasn't impressed." Merlin looked down at the juicy chicken wing on his plate. "I've a good mind to sneak something to her anyway. It's not fair."

"Of course it's fair. She's a hunting animal."

"I could hide it somewhere. Then she'd have to find it. That's hunting."

Leonard, who sat opposite Merlin, laughed loudly. "I think you'll find that's foraging, my lad."

Merlin shrugged. "Same difference. It's not fair to starve her."

"You're far too attached to that animal," said Leonard. "Better not let Arthur hear you going soft over her."

"Arthur's still cross with her for stealing the key to the treasury," said Merlin. "She's very intelligent." 

"She's wicked," said Gaius. "She ran off with my quill the other day. I found it under your bed."

"She collects things," said Merlin, and took a big gulp of ale. It was true, he did spoil Ferox a bit. More often than not he forgot to take her to the stables and let her sleep in his room instead. She was always up to something and she liked it when he tickled her behind her ears. It took the edge off the loneliness, sometimes.

"Do you think the King will be going on the hunt tomorrow?" Leonard asked.

Merlin and Gaius exchanged a look. "I think he might prefer to leave the hunting to the younger people," Gaius said, diplomatically. "He and Lord Godwyn have much to catch up on."

"Perhaps I should stay, then," said Merlin. "In case he needs anything."

"You know Arthur won't agree to that," said Gaius. "He needs you by his side."

"I'm sure he does," said Leonard, with a wink that made Merlin distinctly uncomfortable. He stared down at his plate, suddenly fascinated by a bit of parsnip.

"What about you?" Gaius asked Leonard. "I trust you will be heading out with Sir Odric as usual?"

"Wouldn't miss it. Unlike young Merlin here, I quite enjoy the thrill of the chase."

Merlin glanced over at Arthur. He looked a little bored, and caught Merlin's eye almost immediately. A tiny smile appeared on the Arthur's face, and he gave Merlin the slightest of nods.

Merlin couldn't help smiling back, before pretending studiously to ignore him, of course.

The door behind Gaius creaked open and a tall, thin man whom Merlin recognised as Lord Godwyn's physician, slipped into the room and came to stand at Gaius's side. They'd met in Uther's chambers before the feast: his name was Maric and he and Gaius had gone into paroxysms of excitement over some new concoction Maric had developed to cure boils. Merlin disliked boils as much as the next person, and he loved Gaius dearly, but somehow he never felt quite the same passion for the healing arts. At least, not the scientific kind.

But now Maric looked worried; he spoke softly in Gaius's ear, the picture of discretion, and Gaius rose to his feet. Merlin got up too, instinctively, but Gaius motioned for him to stay where he was.

"It's nothing," Gaius said. "I need to go and attend to the King. I won't be a moment. You stay and enjoy the party."

That was the last Merlin saw of Gaius that evening. He chatted with Leonard and the other servants and stuffed his face with food, but he couldn't shift the sense of unease that had settled in his stomach.

Especially when Gwaine started singing. 

*

 

Merlin awoke next morning in the quarters he and Gaius had been allocated, a generous antechamber that was situated conveniently between Arthur's chambers and Uther's. Merlin was impressed with Lord Godwyn's castle: it may have lacked some of the security and grandeur of Camelot, but unlike Camelot it had a feel of design about it, as if someone had thought things out before they started building, rather than just adding rooms as they went along. It also seemed to involve a lot less running up and down stairs.

Gaius was snoring softly, snug under blankets and an old patchwork quilt. It was early, the very first hints of light filtering through the thin gauze curtains over the window between their beds. Merlin yawned, and wriggled comfortably in the cocoon of his own bedclothes. He heard Ferox shifting around in her travelling basket under his bed, making little noises to counterpoint Gaius's snores.

Merlin was just settling back into a nice contented snooze when there was an enormous bellow from the room next door.

"Merlin! Where's my breakfast?!"

Perhaps there were advantages to living down a huge flight of stairs from Arthur, after all. 

*

Once Arthur had wolfed down his breakfast and put on his hunting clothes he went to the armoury, at Lord Godwyn's invitation, to choose a new crossbow to try. Merlin found himself redundant when a pair of chambermaids arrived to make the Prince's bed and lay a fresh fire ready for his return. They even took his laundry to be washed. Impressed, Merlin slipped back to his own room and was considering settling down for a quick read when he heard voices from next door. From Uther's room.

Curious as ever, he tiptoed over and listened.

"There's been no change at all," Gaius was saying. "I hoped it might be shock, that it would wear off once he came to terms with Morgana's betrayal. But he's been like this for weeks now."

"And he talks of her often?"

"He talks of little else. It's bad enough that he tortures himself with it during the day, but the nightmares…. It's a terrible thing to witness, Maric. I know not everyone felt affection for him but he was a good king, so strong and resolute of spirit. To see him like this… it breaks my heart, it truly does."

Merlin swallowed hard. Gaius kept his feelings so closely guarded most of the time, especially regarding the King. But Merlin could hear the tremor of his voice and felt the pain of it.

"Well, you did well to come to me. I think I can offer some help,” Maric said. "But I should warn you, it will not be easy to accomplish and there are some complications.”

The hairs on the back of Merlin's neck prickled. Magic. It had to be. 

Had Gaius suggested they come all this way so he could secure the services of a sorcerer? 

“Go carefully, I beg of you,” Gaius said. "This is Uther, Maric. I have to respect his wishes, even when he is not well enough to articulate them himself.”

"Of course, Gaius, of course. I suggest only a potion, nothing more. A concoction to a special recipe, thought lost. And even so, I offer you less than scant hope, because I lack one vital ingredient and have no idea where it could be found."

There was a pause, and then Gaius whispered, "What ingredient are you missing? Is it something I might be able to provide?"

"I doubt it. It requires the crushed leaf of the tanglewort, and no such plant has been seen growing since the time of the Great Purge. I am sorry, Gaius, to give you such tantalizing news. I tell you only because where there is one remedy, sometimes another can be fashioned to mimic it. Let me furnish you with the details of my potion, and it can be the basis of your experiments."

"The tanglewort," Gaius murmured. "That rings a bell."

"They were plants of great power, I understand."

"Maric, if I could find the leaf…"

"My dear friend, I fear I send you on a wild goose chase. It is impossible."

"But if I did…. Could you make a cure?"

"I could try."

"It would take your particular talents to do so?"

"As you know, some of my methods remain secret."

Merlin heard Gaius let out a long, low sigh. "Of course. I understand."

"I think he stirs, Gaius. Would you like another draught to soothe him?"

"It doesn't do to sedate him for too long. Lord Godwyn said he'd like to come and sit with us while the young people are out on the hunt; I hope that will prove a comfort."

"Me too," said Maric. "I am sorry, Gaius. I truly am. It's one thing for a king to die in battle, or as an old man surrounded by a brood of healthy heirs and grand-heirs. But this… it is terrible indeed to see him laid so low."

"It troubles me more than I can say, old friend. More than I can say."

*

 

Merlin wandered towards the stables deep in thought. He still couldn't quite believe that Gaius had been so desperate as to seek out a sorcerer - for surely that was what Maric was - without mentioning so much as a word of it to Merlin. Surely Gaius trusted him? And if this Maric could produce a cure, why not Merlin? 

"Can I help you?"

Merlin suddenly fell out of his reverie and back into the real world. He realised he was standing in the doorway to the stables, with a groom looking quizzically at him. He recognised the man from the previous day; he'd been one of those who had carried Uther's litter. 

"Horses," said Merlin.

"Well, you've come to the right place," said the groom with a little grin. "You're Prince Arthur's servant, aren't you?"

"Yes! Yes, I'm Merlin. Sorry, I was miles away."

"So I noticed. I thought for a moment you were about to walk straight into the dung pile."

"Oh," said Merlin, feeling like a complete idiot. 

"Your horses are in the last row of stalls near the back there." The groom indicated the direction with a point of one stubby finger. "The chestnut got a bit feisty."

"Hengroen? She needs a run. I think she found it frustrating going at the same pace as the carriage on the way here. She's used to a good gallop every day."

"She's a fine horse. I'd heard rumours of Camelot's stock but she's really exceptional."

Merlin smiled to himself; the man obviously loved his job and the creatures he cared for, and his enthusiasm was heartening. 

Merlin began saddling the horses, starting with Percival's sturdy mount, and leaving Hengroen until last, so as not to overexcite her. The groom looked up from his sweeping from time to time and glanced Merlin's way, as if making sure he was doing his job correctly. Merlin smiled politely and took extra care; he got the feeling that the man would let him know in no uncertain terms if he made a mistake.

Merlin was trying to persuade Gwaine's new mare to put her head in the bridle rather than lip-nibble the top of his ear, when a female voice rang out in the stables.

"John, are you there?"

The groom wiped his hands on a cloth and went to the door. "Good morning, Your Highness. What can I do for you?"

Elena was wearing riding breeches and stout leather boots, her hair tied back in a glossy plait, somehow looking just as graceful and elegant as she had in the beaded gown she'd worn to last night's feast. "How's Rosehip doing?" she asked.

"Better, Your Highness. She's putting weight on the leg normally now. I'll take her out for a bit of exercise on the lunge this afternoon, see how she gets on."

"That's a relief. She really did take such a nasty fall."

"Will you be taking Lupin out today? I have her ready for you. Just in case. Unless you'd rather choose another?"

"Lupin will be perfect, John. She'll help me give Arthur a run for his money, don't you think Merlin?"

Merlin startled at the sound of his name; he hadn't even thought she'd noticed him. She smiled kindly at him, and he smiled back. "I'm sure she will, Your Highness."

"I'll be back in an hour, John."

The groom gave her a little nod and she went on her way.

"She's very nice, isn't she?" said Merlin.

"I've known her since she was a little girl," John said. "She used to come and hide in the stables when it all got a bit much for her up in the castle. I must say, she's grown into a fine young woman."

"Yes," said Merlin, with a tiny touch of pride. "She has."

"I suppose one day she'll get married and move away." John leaned on his broom, gazing wistfully out of the doorway and across the courtyard. "I'll miss her something terrible when that day comes. I never had any daughters, see. Only sons."

"Perhaps she won't move away. Maybe her husband will come and live here."

"Now that I could live with. So long as he's good enough for her!"

Merlin laughed. "Of course."

"What about your Prince Arthur, then? I heard what happened over in Camelot. Is he going to marry this girl who was better than our Elena?"

There was no anger in his voice, so Merlin assumed John bore no ill-will towards Arthur, no matter what gossip he'd heard. "I expect so, one day. Not that she was better. Just… well, love is love, isn't it?"

"So they tell me. Ah well. Come along, boy. These horses won't take care of themselves."

*

Once the horses were ready, Merlin returned to Arthur's room to lay out his hunting clothes. The door to the antechamber was open, and he could hear Gaius moving about, accompanied by the familiar rustling papers and the scratching of pen on parchment. Once Arthur's shirt, breeches and jacket were ready, Merlin checked the corridor to see there was no-one coming, then closed the door to Arthur's chambers firmly before going though to the anteroom.

"Hello," he said.

"Hmm," said Gaius, deep in thought.

Merlin considered several subtle and clever ways of starting the conversation before he finally blurted out, "Why didn't you tell me that you wanted to heal Uther _that_ way?"

"Merlin!" Gaius rose quickly to his feet. "What on earth are you talking about? And keep your voice down!" He nodded towards the door to Uther's chambers, for all that it was firmly shut.

"I heard you. This morning. Plotting."

"Plotting? Don't be ridiculous. We were discussing."

"Are you telling me he's not a-" Merlin dropped his voice to all but nothing, mostly mouthing the word, "sorcerer?"

"Of course he isn't! Where on earth did you get that idea?"

Merlin hesitated. "He said. You said. Well, you implied."

Gaius arched an eyebrow.

"You said he had a special talent."

"There are other talents than yours, Merlin. Maric is a herbalist."

"Oh. Well, okay, but what's so special about him, then? I thought you knew all there was to know about herbs."

"That's very flattering of you, Merlin, but it's far from the truth, I'm afraid. Maric's research has far surpassed mine where illnesses of the mind are concerned. He spent a long time on retreat with the monks of Gedref, learning their skills."

"I see. I'm sorry, Gaius. I jumped to a bit of a conclusion."

"You certainly did. I don't know what's worse, Merlin, that you thought I'd be stupid enough to talk like that in front of Uther, or that you were eavesdropping on me in the first place."

"Not deliberately. The door was open and I sort of…" Merlin shrugged his shoulders, grinning impishly. "Couldn't help it."

He knew that Gaius probably didn't believe him, but neither of them could hold a grudge with each other for long.

"So what about this flower?" Merlin said. "Do you know where to find it?"

"I'm afraid not. But I have found a picture of it." Gaius passed Merlin the book he'd been taking notes from. There was a detailed drawing of a little plant with tiny leaves and a bell-shaped flower made up of layers of veined blue petals.

"Pretty," said Merlin.

"And powerful. They were a common ingredient in magical potions, even though they have no magical properties themselves."

"So that's why they were obliterated in the Great Purge?"

Gaius nodded.

"There's nothing left of them at all?"

"Well, one can never be sure. But I haven't seen one for many years."

"I'll keep my eyes open," said Merlin, wryly.

"You do that," said Gaius. "It might keep you out of mischief."

Merlin opened his mouth to defend himself but he was interrupted by Arthur bellowing "Merlin!" from the room next door.

"Duty calls," said Merlin. "And loudly, as usual."

*

The air sparkled with the promise of rain as Merlin trudged through the forest. In sharp contrast to the stately procession that had approached Godwyn's castle the day before, Arthur, Elena and the rest of the hunting party had galloped to the hunt like a wild, frenzied mob on horseback. Or so it seemed to Merlin, who had been held up at the last minute by a loose strap on Ferox's cage and found it very difficult to catch up.

Once they reached the forest things proceeded in a more controlled fashion, and after a short while they decided to dismount and proceed on foot so as not to scare their quarry. Merlin was banished to the back of the group after he accidentally tripped over a tree root and startled the deer they were stalking. 

An hour into the hunt and Merlin was wet, disgruntled and seriously considering tripping over another tree root so Arthur would send him back to join the servants looking after the horses. Except that Arthur was bound to get himself into trouble if Merlin left him alone.

The party stopped at a clearing in the heart of the forest while Arthur and a couple of the others spread out to look for tracks. Merlin sat on an old tree stump, propping Ferox's cage propped on his knees. She was excited, her little whiskery nose pressed to the spaces between the willow slats. Merlin wished her enthusiasm was infectious, but he still felt nothing but bored.

"What's in the basket?" To Merlin's surprise, Elena knelt on the forest floor to peek in Ferox's cage.

"Arthur's ferret."

"And she hunts?"

"Oh yes. She likes rabbits, shrews, voles, that sort of thing. Arthur's trained her to hunt other things too. And she's very friendly."

"May I stroke her?"

"Of course, my Lady." Merlin opened the cage, taking a firm grip on Ferox's leash. The little ferret stuck her nose out and sniffed at Elena's offered hand, making her usual cute little noises when Elena petted her fur.

"She's adorable!"

"She's an incurable thief, too. She'll steal anything shiny and squirrel it away. She even ran off with one of Arthur's vambraces once. Didn't get too far, it was as big as she is!"

Elena laughed, and Merlin noticed how pretty she was, and wondered briefly how different things might have been, if Arthur hadn't been in love with Gwen, and had married Elena after all.

"I'd better put her back, my Lady," Merlin said. "Arthur doesn't like her to be too pampered when we're out on the hunt."

"It's the same with hunting dogs. I used to get into terrible trouble for playing with Father's hounds on hunt days."

Merlin was about to reply when Lancelot hurried over to them. "Arthur's found a trail. Over there, heading West."

With a sigh, Merlin got to his feet and reluctantly rejoined the hunt.

*

The light was starting to fail and their efforts had yielded nothing. Even Ferox hadn't managed to find anything; she became so dispirited in the end that she took herself back to her basket in a sulk. Merlin snuck her a bit of cheese to cheer her up, but there was no consoling Arthur. He hated a failed hunt, and Merlin knew he'd have hoped to impress Lord Godwyn with an impressive catch. 

Somewhere at the back of his mind, Merlin knew there was something wrong about the forest that day. But it was a strange forest, and the mist and the cold gave everything a sinister look. He just wished it was all over and he could have a hot bath and get warm again.

Arthur signalled the others to wait as he crept through a dense patch of undergrowth. The trees here were spread widely, interspersed with bracken, bramble and hawthorn as high as a man. 

Hawthorn. 

Merlin started to look a little more closely at what was growing nearby.

Suddenly, hidden in a patch of tall grass, he saw a scrap of blue. His heart raced. He tried to tell himself that it could be anything; there were lots of plants native to the forest with blue flowers. But as he moved closer he noticed the unusual shape of the petals; the fringe of white around the middle of each stem, the vivid yellow veins in the leaves.

Could it be? 

Merlin carefully set down Ferox's cage and moved toward the flower as stealthily as Arthur was stalking in the opposite direction.

For a moment, he thought he heard singing. He shook his head, listened again.

Nothing.

Merlin reached out to touch the tanglewort, fingers trembling with excitement.

There was a flash of light, intense and bright, momentarily blinding. Merlin blinked his vision back to see in front of him a common bluebell, nothing more.

Elena's voice came through the mist, echoing around the forest. "Arthur! Arthur, where are you?!"

Merlin's heart sank to his boots; he turned towards the sound of Elena's voice and ran.

*

"He was right here, I saw him," Elena said. They stood in a circle of trees around a clump of boulders with the knights and the rest of the hunting party.

"What happened?" Merlin asked.

"He must be around somewhere," Gwaine said. "He can't have just disappeared."

"There was a light," Elena said. "And music. He was…. Well, I couldn't believe my own eyes, really."

"Why?" said Merlin.

"He was _dancing_."

Merlin wondered if he was dreaming. That would explain a lot. And he might wake up in a minute in a nice warm bed, with Arthur safe and not….

"Dancing?" he said. "Arthur doesn't dance. Ever."

"Well, he was."

"By himself?" said Gwaine.

"Yes. It was a sort of jig."

There was a moment's silence.

"Most disturbing," said Lancelot.

"And then he vanished, and for a moment I thought I saw…. I don't know, it all happened so fast."

"What did you see, my Lady?" asked Lancelot, gently. "It might be important."

"A woman. She had fair hair and wore a long green gown. But it was only for a second, I can't be sure I saw anything really. It was as if time stood still, and then started again. That's all."

A chill ran down Merlin's spine. 

"Spread out in a line," Lancelot said. "He can't have gone far. Keep in sight of each other. This way. Elyan, you take left flank, Percival the right. My Lady, do you wish to remain here, or Merlin could take you back to the horses?"

"Don't be silly," said Elena, and took her place to Lancelot's left.

Merlin stumbled into the line between Gwaine and Percival, still in a daze. "It must have been magic," he mumbled. "They'll be long gone by now."

"We don't know that," said Gwaine, with a reassuring squeeze to Merlin's shoulder. 

"I do," muttered Merlin, but the others were already spreading far apart, and no-one heard him.

*

They searched and searched, until the light failed, and Merlin could only vaguely make out the figures of Gwaine to his left and Percival to his right. There were no tracks, no footsteps, no suspiciously broken twigs, nothing that could have been left by Arthur as he passed. Merlin wasn't surprised; he'd spent nearly a year at Arthur's side searching for Morgana and this was the same fruitless quest all over again. Arthur had obviously been abducted using magic. 

There _was_ no trail.

He heard Lancelot's voice calling through the darkness, telling them to move in. They'd completed a wide sweep around the clearing where Arthur vanished, an elegant, efficient circle. 

They were back exactly where they started, and none the wiser.

"We'll come back at first light," Lancelot said. "There's nothing more we can do for now."

"There must be _something_!" Elena cried. "I can't believe he's lost! I can't!"

"Not lost," said Lancelot kindly. "I've seen Arthur conquer all manner of monsters, and solve many riddles. We'll find him safe and well, My Lady, I promise."

Merlin hung back as the others strode off towards the horses. He slowed time to ward off the dark and stared, trance-like, at the clearing, looking for any kind of clue. But there was nothing.

Eventually he was distracted by a low sound, a moaning like a troubled horse; he released time and the sound changed. It was Ferox, crying to him from her cage where he'd left her a few feet away.

Merlin released her with a whisper of magic, grateful to hold her close, her fur and warmth comforting as she burrowed into his shirt. 

"We'll find him," Merlin said. "But not their way."

An echo of his name drifted back through the forest: even Lancelot's patience was worn thin.

Holding Ferox close, Merlin ran to join the others.

*

The ride back was grim. The night was very dark before they reached the castle and Merlin had seldom been so relieved to see the warm glow of ordinary human lights. 

He took Arthur's things from Hengroen's back: his water-skin, leather bag, spare quiver, and took them up to Arthur's room. Everything was just as he'd left it that morning, for all that it felt like a lifetime ago.

Gaius's worried face peeked around the door to their antechamber.

"Merlin? Thank goodness, I'd been worried! Are you all right?"

"It's Arthur," Merlin said, choking back tears. "We lost Arthur."

"Arthur? What on earth happened?"

"He's kidnapped. Only, I think whoever it was used magic."

"Did you see them?"

"No. I was-" Merlin tailed off, remembering. "Oh!"

"You were what?"

"I was looking for that flower you told me about."

"The tanglewort? But I told you, Merlin, they're all gone."

"But that's just it. It was there. Exactly as you'd described. Only it must have been some kind of illusion. All of a sudden it was just a bluebell."

"Merlin, are you sure you didn't get bumped on the head or something?"

"No. No, it was there, Gaius, plain as day. Someone _put it there_! To distract me while they took Arthur."

"How would they know you were looking for that particular flower, though?"

"I don't know," Merlin admitted.

"Did anyone see what happened to Arthur?"

Merlin recounted the scene just as Elena had told it.

"An old woman? What did she look like?"

"I'm not sure, exactly. Elena said afterwards she had yellow hair, and a long green dress. She must have been a sorceress. Maybe Morgana or Morgause in disguise?"

"She was old?"

"Very. And dirty, Elena said. Like her face was covered in a kind of grey ash. Why?"

"I don't think she was a sorceress. She sounds a bit like one of the faeries."

"A Sidhe?"

"No, no, Elena couldn't see a Sidhe, and they can't take human form without possessing someone entirely. Did Elena say anything else?"

"Only that she thought Arthur was dancing. That's what made me think it must be magic, that and the fact that Arthur would never let himself be kidnapped without putting up a fight, and there was no sign of one."

"Wait a moment."

Gaius turned and rummaged through the trunk of books and papers he'd brought with him from Camelot. Merlin had teased him mercilessly for bringing so many, but now he found the little library reassuring in the extreme. 

"Ah, here we go." Gaius produced a leather-bound tome. "Let me see…" He worked meticulously through the pages; it was all Merlin could do to stop himself snatching the book and looking himself.

"That's it!" Gaius exclaimed. "A Glaistig!"

Merlin looked over his friend's shoulder and sure enough, the picture fit Elena's description. What's more, the creature was clearly in the act of seducing a hapless knight. But there was one thing…

"She's half goat," Merlin said. "I'm pretty sure Elena would have mentioned if she'd been half goat.

"Oh, they keep that well hidden," Gaius said. "Wearing long dresses and such."

"Hmm. Okay. So, if it was a Glaistig, what does she want with Arthur?"

Gaius and Merlin scanned the text under the picture together, and with shared, growing alarm. 

"His blood!' Merlin cried. "She can't have his blood! He needs it! To go on living with!"

"Oh dear," said Gaius. "You'd better find him."

"Well, thanks. I hadn't thought of that! What do you think I've been doing all afternoon?!"

"Merlin!"

"I don't know where to look!" Merlin said, helplessly. 

"We must consider this logically. The Glaistig tend to live alone, but often near cattle. They like water. They're faeries."

"That narrows it down to, oh, most of the villages between here and the sea in all directions!"

"Well, probably not the mountains."

Merlin slumped to sit on the end of his bed, and buried his head in his hands. "I should have stayed with him, Gaius. If it wasn't for that stupid flower…"

"You can't blame yourself, Merlin. Even you can't watch him every minute of every day."

Merlin scrubbed at his eyes with the heels of his hands; he was wretchedly tired and nothing was really making sense. "Nobody knew about the flower, Gaius. Except you, and me, and Maric. Which means…."

"Now, Merlin, don't go jumping to conclusions."

"Well it wasn't me and it wasn't you."

"Maric is an old friend. I can't believe he would wish you or Arthur any ill."

"Let's ask him."

"Leave that to me. I don't want you to go running around accusing everybody. We must think calmly and logically, Merlin."

"I am thinking calmly and logically! If it wasn't me and it wasn't you…"

"There could be another explanation altogether!"

"What might that be?"

There was a knock on the door. 

Merlin defty slipped the book of faeries under his pillow as Gaius said, "Come in!"

The door to Uther's chambers opened and Maric stood there.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I couldn't help but hear my name. Is there anything I can do?"

"What were you doing," Merlin said, suspiciously. "That you just happened to hear us?"

"I was attending to Uther," said Maric. "As Gaius requested. What's wrong?"

"Arthur's been kidnapped," said Gaius.

Merlin watched Maric carefully, but could see nothing amiss in his reaction: he looked shocked and worried, nearly as much so as Gaius had when he'd heard the news.

"I was distracted," Merlin said. "Thought I saw a tanglewort."

At that Maric looked distinctly annoyed. "Gaius, you told the boy?"

"Merlin is like family to me, I'd trust him with my life."

"Hmm. Well, that's not important I suppose. Tell me what happened to Arthur."

Merlin let Gaius tell the tale, preferring to watch. Maric's concern looked genuine. To his surprise, when Gaius described the woman, Maric interjected with, "The Glaistig!"

"You know of such a creature?" said Gaius.

"Indeed, a group of merchants petitioned Lord Godwyn a couple of months ago, claiming that a monster like the one you described had obstructed them from their usual route through the outlying villages."

"Which villages? What roads?" said Merlin. "Perhaps that's where she lives. She might have taken Arthur there, to… to…"

"Suck his blood?" supplied Gaius.

"I'm trying not to think of that part," said Merlin. "Where was it, Maric?"

"All along the main trade route from the south. And there was something else. The merchants reported strange lights coming from an old ruin at a place called Neath."

Gaius frowned. "I've heard that before."

"That must be it!" cried Merlin. "That's where she's taken him!"

"There isn't much there," said Maric. "These are just rumours from merchants, they're not the most reliable people in the world."

"I suppose it's a start," said Gaius.

"I'll go and ask Lord Godwyn if he's heard anything else," said Maric. "Don't worry. I'm sure we'll find him."

He hurried off.

"Merlin, I don't want you to do anything hasty," Gaius said. "Neath's a dangerous place. You and Arthur barely escaped with your lives last time. We've no reason to believe that the Glaistig's there."

"Where there's smoke, there's fire," said Merlin, firmly. "Besides, it's not far." He rushed to his bed and pulled out his travelling bag from underneath. "If I leave at first light I can be there in a day, two days tops."

"But Merlin-" Gaius began.

"I'll be careful!"

"There's no need for you to go alone. If you tell Lord Godwyn and Sir Leon they'll send some good men with you."

"No. Neath is a magical place, Gaius. I'm better off alone, so I can use my powers. I'll be fine. Don't worry."

"I still think you're being very rash."

Merlin grinned cheekily at him. He had a plan, and it made him feel so, so much better. "You're not going to tell anyone, though, are you?"

Gaius sighed deeply, emanating disapproval from every pore. "I suppose not. But _please_ -"

"Be careful. I know."

Gaius hugged Merlin so tight he could barely breathe.

*

 

 

Merlin woke before dawn, pulled on his clothes, picked up his pack and tiptoed from his room while Gaius was still snoring. He put his boots on in the corridor outside and made his way down to the stables.

John the groom was already up, of course, mixing feed in the tack room adjoining the stables. Merlin would have to trust him: there was no other way of taking Vesta from his stall without raising an alarm. So he took a deep breath and strode confidently into the tack room. 

"Morning," he said.

"Good morning, Merlin. You're up early."

"Yes, um…"

"Can't sleep, eh? I'd be the same. Dreadful business with Prince Arthur. Not the kind of thing you expect to happen here in Lord Godwyn's kingdom, of all places."

"Unfortunately things like this happen quite a lot in Camelot."

"So I've heard. Are you going looking for him, then? Can't wait for the official search party to head out?"

"Something like that, yes."

"If it was Princess Elena who'd gone missing, wild horses couldn't stop me. It'll take them forever to get themselves sorted out. If you're a man of action, act, that's what I say."

"Exactly," said Merlin. 

John gave the horse feed he was mixing a final stir, and banged the spoon on the side of the bucket. "Come on, then. Let's get Vesta saddled. I'll give you a hand."

"Thanks," said Merlin.

As the first rays of light lifted the night from the courtyard, Merlin set out for Neath.

*

Merlin met the main road after a few miles, and passed a handy milestone informing he was fifty miles from Riverthorne, the closest town to Neath. Thanks to the early start, he should get there not long after nightfall. Merchant routes attracted bandits, and Merlin wasn't keen on travelling in the dark.

Around noon the road crossed a stream, which seemed a good place to stop and refill his water-skin. He led Vesta off the road and found a good spot for him to drink too. 

It was then that Merlin reached into his bag for an apple and to his astonishment felt something warm and furry moving around inside.

He pulled back the flap of his bag with some trepidation and peeked inside. 

A little whiskered nose popped out, but to Merlin's relief it wasn't a rat or a mouse. He could swear the beady little black eyes winked at him.

"Bad ferret! You're not supposed to be here," Merlin said. "How did you get out of your cage?"

Ferox squeaked at him and sniffed at his apple.

"D'you want a drink, you disobedient creature?"

The sun was warm and the water crisp and clear. It was a good spot for a picnic, if circumstances had been different. Merlin could have spent a happy hour or so there with his horse and Arthur's ferret, paddling his feet in the stream. 

But he had to go and save Arthur. Of course.

"Come on," Merlin said to his companions, after an all-too-brief rest. "Let's go find Dollop-head."

*

Merlin's good humour evaporated completely after the third set of bandits decided to try their luck with an ambush. He didn't feel in any particular danger, because at least he didn't have to hide his magic quite so carefully as if he hadn't been alone. But it slowed him down and he really just wanted to get to Neath and find Arthur. He knew, deep down, that Arthur was alive, but he was desperate to touch him and yell at him and watch him like a hawk for the rest of his life.

The light and relative peace of the inn at Riverthorne was welcome, but Merlin didn't linger in the bar. As soon as he'd bolted down his supper he went upstairs, found the room he'd been given and cast an alarm and protection spell on the door and tiny window. He lay down on the bed and closed his eyes. Ferox burrowed about in the thin blanket until she got comfortable; then Merlin drifted, listening to the little animal's sleeping breath and very slowly falling into sleep.

There were dreams.

_Merlin was flying. His eyesight was sharp, his mind concentrated to a pinpoint need to eat. He craved meat, juicy with blood; nothing else was real to him._

_But as he dove after a plump rodent that was running for its little life, just before he hooked his claws around it's furry, helpless body, a voice cut through his concentration, scattered his focus, taking with it all form and flight and meaning._

_"Merlin!"_

_Merlin's being scattered into a million points of light, and reformed._

_Merlin was swimming. Underwater, but there was no breath, no fear of drowning. His body moved like the sea he swam in; long, undulating waves, steered by a flick of his tail, a flutter of his fin. The water washed through him and gave him everything: food, oxygen, life. The water _was_ him. He swam in bliss until a rush of warmth came his way, and with it fear and danger. _

_A shark?_

_"Merlin!"_

_The red water hit him and Merlin dissolved, spread through the ocean in droplets no bigger than a speck of dust._

_The sea crashed on the shore, met by dragon's breath, and once again Merlin flew._

_This time, he was himself. He had no wings of his own, no beak, no feathers._

_This time he was Merlin, the warlock of Albion, and he rode upon a dragon._

_And he knew that voice, better than any other on earth. A voice of fear and dread, a voice of cunning, a voice of nobility and courage._

_"Kilgharrah?"_

Merlin woke.

*

 

 

The path to Neath was as narrow and overgrown as Merlin remembered, and just as straight. 

As soon as he'd crossed the stream he could see the hill, with the ruined fort on top-

\- and the lights.

Merlin knew right away that there was nothing natural about the shimmering reds and blues and greens that stained the sky above the fort. The magic sang to him, screamed at him, filled him and made the fine hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

Vesta grew skittish, tossing his head about, taking fussy steps that were as likely to move them sideways as forwards. Merlin whispered to him, keeping his voice low and calm, but it didn't make much difference. Even Ferox seemed nervous, fidgeting around in Merlin's bag.

By the time they reached the foot of the hill, Vesta was trembling. Merlin dismounted, soothed him as best he could and tied him to a tree, before continuing on foot.

The lights painted the grass purple and orange; swirling dizzily as Merlin made his way up the hill. 

Ferox stilled in Merlin's bag, trembling.

Merlin stood in the archway that had once been the entrance to the gatehouse, magic crackling from his fingertips, dancing around him. The thought crossed his mind that if Arthur was here it could prove difficult to hide who he really was, with all this going on. 

But the more the magic washed through him, the less Merlin _wanted_ to hide. This was power of the purest kind, strong and clean, light as morning mist.

Drenched in it, Merlin stepped forwards.

*

Fresh. Everything felt fresh, rain-fresh, snow-fresh, clean. 

The grass squeaked beneath his feet. Merlin took one careful step after another. The floor was cracked and here and there and the pillars underneath could be clearly seen; Merlin remembered last time. 

Merlin remembered Arthur turned to stone.

Merlin closed his eyes and _felt_. 

Disappointment speared through him: Arthur was not here. He could sense it; he knew everything. No Arthur. But there was something else. Something else had called him here.

Merlin crossed the courtyard, step by step on the fragile path between the ruins, step by step by step until he reached the pool. The tree.

_The tree._

The old Fiadhaich tree grew in the pool where Merlin had left it, taller now - much, much taller, at least twenty feet, towering above him. 

It radiated light and magic, streaming from its bark and sap and leaves. Such leaves, strong and healthy, bathed in rainbow colours.

_Emrys_

Merlin acknowledged the name silently, with the slightest incline of his head. 

_Come._

Merlin put down his bag and stepped forwards, only dimly aware of Ferox escaping and running for cover. 

Merlin approached the tree.

_Touch._

Merlin reached out instinctively, hesitating only at the very last minute. 

_You need this for the battle to come._

_What battle?_

_You will see. This is foretold, Emrys. As Arthur unites the ordinary people of Albion, so you unite the extra-ordinary, and it starts now. Take the power, Emrys. It is yours by right._

Merlin's fingers twitched, but still he hesitated.

_What is it, Emrys? What troubles you?_

"Apart from the fact that I'm talking to a tree?" said Merlin, out loud.

There was a pause, and then, _~I am not a simple tree. You left your mark on this place, Sorcerer. You left this power to build, and now it's yours to take. As it was meant to be.~_

"Will this help me find Arthur? Do you know where he is."

 _~I know not. I do know that if Arthur is lost, you will find him. You will_ always _find him.~_

A smile twitched onto Merlin's face. Whoever - whatever - this tree was, it was sounding very reassuring.

Merlin took a deep breath, stepped forwards, and touched his fingers to the bark.

Magic burst through his mind, and everything went white.

*

There was cold, and hot. There was wet and dry. 

There were heavy, ground-shaking footfalls approaching.

"Are you still sleeping, young warlock?"

Merlin's eyes opened, but he was immediately blinded by the force of the sun beating down on him. He shielded his eyes and things swam into focus; the tree, to one side of him, no longer streaming magic but quiet and still, like any ordinary tree. And to the other side, a familiar, looming face with fathomless golden eyes, blinking at him.

"Kilgharrah! What are you doing here?"

"There was an explosion of magic that could be felt throughout the entire world, young warlock."

"Really?"

"Yes. It woke me up." He sounded rather peeved.

"The tree." Merlin sat up, and only then realised that he'd been lying in the shallow of the stream. His back was drenched. He cursed softly and pulled himself to his feet. 

"The Fiadhaich tree has unique properties."

"It told me there was a prophecy. That I'd have to unite all the magical creatures of Albion, as Arthur would unite the human kingdoms."

"You are two sides of the same coin. Stand still."

"What?"

Merlin looked up as Kilgharrah pulled his head back a little, opened his mouth and breathed. There was the tiniest flicker of flame a the back of the dragon's throat, but all that reached Merlin was warm, soft air.

He was dry in a moment.

"Thanks," he said, with a grin.

"You must move quickly," Kilgharrah said. "The Glaistig is one of the faery-folk, and they are not to be trusted. Arthur is still in danger."

"Do you know where he is?"

"His whereabouts are hidden from me."

"Then were do I start looking? He could be anywhere."

"You will find no clues among people if she has taken him into her world. Only the clans of the faeries would know."

"Right! Well, that's a start, I suppose. Now, where can I find the faeries?"

"That depends what faeries you're looking for."

"You're really not helping, you know that?"

"I have every confidence in you, young warlock." Kilgharrah spread his wings, feet shuffling, ready to take to the sky.

"I don't suppose I could ask for a lift?"

Merlin thought he heard Kilgharrah laugh as he flew away.

*

Merlin hitched his bag back onto his shoulder, somewhat comforted to hear Ferox snuffling about inside, and picked his way out of the fort. Vesta was waiting for him at the bottom of the hill, cropping at the grass in a state of perfect calm. Merlin sighed as he hauled himself on Vesta's back and began his return journey. His bag felt heavy, his limbs tired, and all the power and energy he'd felt from the Fiadhaich tree had evaporated.

And he still didn't have a clue where to look for Arthur.

He must have been unconscious in the stream for several hours, because the light was getting mellow as Merlin arrived back at the inn. It was well on the way to evening, and there was no way he'd get back to Lord Godwyn's castle before dark. So he paid the innkeeper for another night's stay, wolfed down a bowl of stew and, recklessly, _two_ tankards of ale, and went up to his room. 

He flopped down on the bed, the soft buzz of alcohol warming through him, and with a negligent gesture twitched the curtains shut.

He was drifting fitfully, alternating between the relief of resting his aching limbs and fretting about Arthur, when he became aware of a loud squeaking noise. He considered potential causes: the door, but it was firmly shut. The inn sign, but that was on the other side of the building. A cupboard door, flapping in a breeze, but this room was nowhere near grand enough to enjoy the gift of cupboards. Ferox, but it wasn't her squeak at all; it was harsh, insistent, almost like….

…. A rat.

Merlin's eyes shot open and he found himself looking straight into a pair of very dark, very wicked little eyes, full of cunning and set between huge black, twitching whiskers. 

Merlin yelled and batted at the creature, sure it would scurry off. But it held it's ground. It looked almost hurt.

Merlin sat up, dislodging it from his chest, but still it just sat there on the bed, looking at him.

To his surprise, Ferox was sitting there right beside him. Ferox usually showed nothing but disdain for rodents; she seemed as likely to eat them as anything else. But this particular rat seemed perfectly safe.

It had a scar just below its left ear.

Merlin found himself looking again into its eyes, and this time they didn't seem so black. Bit by bit the dark faded, like dirt being wiped from a window, until finally they were undeniably and impossibly green.

Merlin frowned.

The rat made an odd little shrugging gesture with its shoulders, its eyes still firmly fixed on Merlin's.

"What are you?" said Merlin.

The rat nudged at Merlin's knee.

"If you want something to eat, you're out of luck. I've got enough pets to take care of all ready. And you," he turned an accusing eye on Ferox. "What's with you? Do you know what's going on here?"

But Ferox just blinked at him.

"I've got enough to worry about, you know," Merlin told the rat.

The rat gave an exasperated squeak, and reared up on its back legs. 

Merlin leapt back on the bed until his back banged against the wall. For an instant, a flash of an image, it hadn't been a rat at all. It had been a man.

A slender, young man with green eyes that slanted like a cat and dark, curly hair.

"Aloysius?" said Merlin, in complete astonishment. "Is that you?"

The rat squeaked frantically.

Merlin concentrated, hard, focusing on the rat's true nature, the being behind the fur and tail.

Again, he saw as clear as day, undeniably, impossibly, Aloysius.

"It's really you?" Merlin said. "The last time I saw you was at Neath, two years ago, with the Lady and the Shapeshifter."

The rat stood on its hind legs, head on one side, and made a little circular motion with it's left paw, as if waiting for Merlin to catch up.

"He turned you into a rat! It really _is_ you!"

The rat nodded excitedly.

"I thought you were dead! Do you want me to turn you back?" 

The rat nodded even faster.

"All right, I'll give it a try. But it's notoriously difficult. I should warn you, you might end up being a slug, or a warthog, or-"

The rat-that-was-probably-Aloysius gave a loud, exasperated squeak.

"All right, all right. Wait just a minute."

Merlin pulled his spell book out of his bag and swiftly flicked through the pages until he found the spell he wanted. The little rat was quivering with excitement, watching his every move. 

"Out of the way, Ferox," Merlin said, gently picking up the ferret and moving her to the floor. "I don't want to turn you into anything by mistake.

Ferox wisely hid under the bed.

"Right, then. Ready?"

The rat squeaked urgently.

Merlin reached out his hand, mustered his magic and spoke.

"Cio che fu non e piu. Cio che fu fatto disfa. Passato e il pericolo, finita e la prova. Metti le cosa a posto!"

There was a flash, a cloud of sparks and the bed creaked.

And then, there, sitting right in front of Merlin, real and flesh-and-blood and naked and very real, was Aloysius.

"Aloysius! I can't believe it!"

Aloysius blinked at him, twitched his nose, and grinned.

"Took you-" His voice came out as mostly-squeak; he cleared his throat and tried again. "Took you long enough." He coughed.

"Sorry. I didn't know where you were, I mean I didn't even know if you were alive and we had to leave in a hurry. Are you all right?"

Aloysius coughed again. "Think so. Just a bit… weird. And hungry. Really, really hungry. I could murder a lump of cheese."

"I'm not sure they serve those here. But I'll get you something to be going on with. Wait here."

Aloysius looked down at his pink, naked self. "I'm not exactly going anywhere like this, am I?"

Merlin couldn't help but follow Aloysius's gaze, only snatching his eyes away after he'd taken in the fact that Aloysius's body looked pretty fit and, well, not unappealing. 

Aloysius inspected the lean muscles in his arms and across his belly with an appraising eye. "Not bad. Keeps you fit, being a rat."

"It really does," said Merlin, trying not to leer. 

Aloysius caught his eye, and smirked. 

"Food," said Merlin. "Sorry, yes, food, and clothes, I'll get you some."

"There's no rush," said Aloysius. "Where's Arthur?"

Merlin backed up the bed a few inches. "Lost. In trouble."

"And you and he….?"

"He's got a woman now. Gwen, I mean, Gwen. He's got a Gwen."

"Tch. That's a shame." Aloysius leaned in a little closer.

"It's fine. I'm fine. Everything's fine. Except he's in danger, obviously, and I really should be out looking for him right now."

"Rubbish. You would be snoring your head off if I hadn't got you to change me back."

"Okay. But food. Let me get you some food."

There must have been a desperate note in Merlin's voice, because Aloysius backed off a bit, and nodded.

Merlin was off the bed and out of the room in a second, Aloysius's laughter following him all the way down stairs.

*

Much later, when Aloysius had worked his way through a loaf of bread, three tankards of ale and a ridiculous amount of cheese, he lay back on the bed and sighed. He wasn't strictly naked any more, but he wasn't properly dressed either. Merlin had charmed a few basic items of clothing out of the cook's assistant - apparently her brother was away with a hunting party and wouldn't miss them - but Aloysius insisted they be washed, and while Merlin was hard at work and wondering why his life always seemed to come back to water, soap and a scrubbing brush, Aloysius wrapped himself in a blanket and stuffed his face.

"That's better," Aloysius said, his eyes drifting shut. "Odd thing, being an animal, you never really eat enough for more than survival. It's all scurrying and rooting about hard work, and as soon as you're not actually hungry, you just want to sleep."

"I know the feeling," muttered Merlin, wringing the laundry with a vicious twist. 

"You could do that by magic, you know," Aloysius pointed out.

"I'm still in hiding, remember?"

"There's no-one here but us two."

"It's just not worth the risk. It's bad enough if anyone manages to work out that you've appeared out of nowhere. I came in alone, after all."

"That's easy. I snuck in the window."

"What on earth would you do that for?"

Aloysius smiled at him. "I can think of a few reasons."

"Stop that." Merlin shook out the shirt and slung it over the makeshift washing line he'd strung across the corner of the room.

"You're no fun."

The laundry done, Merlin emptied the bucket as he'd filled it, with a negligent flick of his fingers, and stuck it back in the corner. Aloysius was right, of course. He could have used magic. But if he admitted that, he'd have to admit that sometimes doing chores was a good way to keep busy and calm under stress, and that was something that Merlin would never, ever admit to anyone.

"She's dead, then. The Lady."

Merlin looked up sharply. Aloysius sat cross-legged at the head of the bed, staring down at his hands. His nose still twitched from time to time, but he didn't seem aware of it.

"Yes," Merlin said. "I'm sorry. She did the right thing, in the end, though. I couldn't have killed Eryr without her help. And she thought the world of you."

"Yeah. Well." Aloysius thumbed something out of the corner of his eye, smearing wet across his cheek.

"Were you with her a long time?"

"Years. Since I was a kid, really. She took me in when I had no-one else."

Merlin sat on the bed, hugging one knee up to his chest, the other dangling towards the floor. "What will you do now?"

Aloysius shrugged. "I don't know. Play the tables, I guess. Not a bad living."

"If you're winning."

"Yeah, well. I'll do all right."

He looked sad and vulnerable, staring at his fingers, flexing them, watching how they worked.

"You could stay with me for a while. Until you find your feet. You could learn a trade."

"A trade, me? Nah. I've got contacts. The Lady knew a lot of people, I'll be all right."

"It's been two years," said Merlin. "People forget."

Aloysius's eyes went wide and his jaw dropped. "Two _years_?"

"Yes. I thought you knew!"

"Of course I didn't know! Rats don't keep time, they just run about and hunt and mate and eat and sleep. Two _years_?"

"You mated with rats?" Merlin wrinkled his nose.

"You are _such_ a prude. I can't believe I forgot that about you."

"I'm not!" Merlin's cheeks went hot. "It's not prudish to not want to mate with rats!"

"I _was_ a rat, idiot."

Merlin remembered, vividly. "Well, you're not now. So don't go getting any ideas."

"What, about doing it with rats? Merlin, listen to yourself. That's just ridiculous. And wrong. Very wrong."

There was a suggestion of Aloysius's habitual sly grin on his face, and although he'd never let on, Merlin was pleased to see it.

"It's all about opportunities," Aloysius said. "Making the best of things. You must have had a few opportunities, since Arthur got his Gwen."

"Not really. It's been really busy."

"Seriously? No-one? Not even a chambermaid or a stable boy?"

"I really haven't thought about it."

"Ha!" Aloysius laughed. "You don't fool me, Warlock. I can read your mind, remember?"

And there it was, all at once, the Thing, the murmur at the back of Merlin's mind, the Thing he'd been keeping squashed down ever since he saw Aloysius's naked skin, because yes, of course he remembered. He remembered Arthur's body pressed agains his, Arthur's mouth against his, Arthur's eyes and hair and voice. He missed it all, and nothing could match it, _nothing_.

But Merlin was at the same time terribly, achingly lonely.

Aloysius's expression grew feral, his eyes narrowed, lips pulled thin and predatory. He leaned in close, his breath a whisper on Merlin's cheek. Merlin had the distinct impression he'd been played.

"Come on," Aloysius said. "I know you want to. I really, really know. And you really, really do."

Then they were kissing. Aloysius's mouth was warm and damp, his hands busy tugging at Merlin's shirt. Merlin managed a feeble, "Just because I want to doesn't mean I shhhhh….." before his eyes slid shut and he surrendered.

The kissing was good. Really good. Aloysius had clearly had a lot of experience. 

It had been so long. So, so long.

"Wait," said Merlin. His breath was short and his mind foggy, but he needed to say this. "If you're going to read my mind-"

"I won't." Aloysius's fingers were messing with Merlin's hair, tickling the nape of his neck. "Believe me, I don't want to be listening to you pining for Arthur all the way through."

"I'm sorry. It's really rude of me. It's just-"

"Merlin, I haven't had sex with another human being for two years. I haven't _been_ a human being for two years. I'd really like to do this without the psychoanalysis, if you don't mind."

"Oh. All right."

"Great. Get your clothes off. You've got me at a disadvantage here."

Merlin stripped with a speed and efficiency that would have amazed Arthur, chucking his clothes on the floor, his eyes fixed on Aloysius as he freed himself of the blanket and stretched out luxuriously. He had a nice body, Merlin noticed. And he seemed very much at home in it.

"What do you want to do?" Merlin asked, shyly.

Aloysius chuckled. "You're such a cutie. Let me see… well, there's one thing that rats don't seem to do, that I really missed."

Merlin shook his head, trying to rid himself of the mental image of Aloysius as a rat doing… rat things. "Could we not talk about that?"

Aloysius shrugged. "It happened. Suck my cock."

Merlin was as shocked as he was turned on by such a blunt request. Arthur would never say anything like that. He blinked.

Merlin's cock was very hard by now.

"I'll suck yours after," Aloysius said with a sly grin. "Promise."

Merlin didn't trust him, of course, but in that moment he didn't really care. He was just hopelessly, outrageously horny and the idea of taking Aloysius's pink, hard, not insubstantial cock in his mouth….

Merlin straddled Aloysius's ankles and bent over, relishing the stretch in his spine as he leaned in and licked Aloysius's cock from root to tip.

Aloysius groaned. He was cradling his own balls in one hand, and gave them a squeeze, a little downward tug.

Merlin smiled to himself. He may not be as experienced as Aloysius but he had learned a thing or two over the years. If he wasn't careful this would be over very, very quickly.

He swirled his tongue around a bit, getting everything nice and wet, enjoying the arch of Aloysius's back as he pressed into it. Merlin dug his hands under Aloysius's buttocks and gripped them firmly as he went to work, licking, kissing, nuzzling Aloysius's skin, from the tip of his cock to the fuzz of his balls to the very soft, delicate skin beyond them. He teased Aloysius's hole with the tip of his little finger, running little circles, moving in rhythm with the steady flex of Aloysius's hips.

Only when Aloysius's skin was damp with sweat and his breathing ragged did Merlin take him fully into his mouth. It felt so good, hot and hard, insistent, pushing over Merlin's tongue. Aloysius's whimpering cries filled the room; Merlin murmured soothingly around the thick-wet-hard in his mouth. 

Somewhere around the point just after Merlin had slipped his fingers between his lips alongside Aloysius's cock, and just before he'd got his little finger back to torture Aloysius's hole, Aloysius let out an almighty cry and came. 

Merlin swallowed diligently, watching Aloysius's face. Screwed up as if in agony, tears clinging brightly to his eyelashes.

Merlin sucked, tenderly, holding Aloysius's hips steady, soothing. When Aloysius was done he shifted to kissing, leaving Aloysius's sensitive, softening cock to move up his belly, across his chest, licking one nipple before Aloysius grabbed him by the ear, hauled him up and kissed him. 

He's tasting himself, Merlin thought, smiling into the kiss. Kinky bastard.

"Give me a minute," Aloysius murmured, kissing Merlin's neck.

And promptly fell asleep.

*


	4. Chapter 4

Merlin splashed water on his face and chest, swiped under each arm with a washcloth and deemed himself clean. He pulled on his shirt and was tying his belt around his middle when the bump under the covers on the bed finally stirred.

"Time to get up," said Merlin. He snatched the clean clothes from the line and flung them at the bed.

Aloysius groaned and stretched, emerging from the sheets head-first. His hair was all fluffed-up and one cheek wrinkled with the imprint of the pillow. 

"What time is it?" he said. 

"Dawn," said Merlin. "Pretty much."

"Ugh. That's obscene. Wake me up when it's light."

"It is light. That's what dawn means."

"No, dawn means middle of the night. Light means later. Morning. Just. Fuck, Merlin, I need more sleep."

"Stay here, then. I don't care."

Merlin set about packing his few belongings, aware that Aloysius was sitting there blinking at him.

"Oh, this is about last night, isn't it?" Aloysius said eventually. "Shit, I'm sorry, man. It was just some kind of after effect of the shape changing or something. C'mon. Come back to bed and I'll make it up to you."

"No thanks. It's okay."

"Seriously, I don't want you to think I'm a totally selfish bastard. Come on. We could make a day of it, it's a really comfy bed."

"No it isn't. It's hard as nails. What're you talking about?"

Aloysius looked down at the bed and frowned. "I don't know. I suppose it's been a while since I slept in one."

"Well, sleep some more. I'm leaving."

"Ah, Arthur. Of course."

"Will you be all right? I could give you some money, and I think they're hiring at the stables, I could put in a good word for you."

"Nah." Aloysius hopped out of bed and grabbed his trousers. "I'll tag along with you a while."

"What? Look, I'm sorry, but I'm in a hurry, I've got to-"

"Save Arthur, yes, I know. But come on, I could help. Seriously."

Merlin gave him a dubious look. He knew Aloysius meant well - at least most of the time it seemed he did - but he tended to attract trouble everywhere he went, and more trouble was the last thing Merlin needed.

"I'll be good," said Aloysius, head cocked on one side, all innocence.

Merlin sighed. "All right. I'm going to get my horse. You've got ten seconds to join me or I'll leave without you, okay?"

"Right behind you, boss," said Aloysius, with a grin.

*

They reached Lord Godwyn's castle late that afternoon. Merlin left Vesta with a stable boy and rushed straight up to his and Gaius's quarters, Aloysius just behind him. 

Merlin opened the door to Arthur's room with a surge of hope that perhaps he might be there: that it had all been a mistake or that the others had rescued him while he'd been away. But the room was just as he'd left it: hopelessly tidy and neat, with no sign of Arthur at all.

The door to the antechamber burst open and Gaius rushed up to them. 

"Merlin! You're back! Did you….?"

Merlin stepped forward and gave Gaius a hug. "No. I'll explain later."

Aloysius cleared his throat.

"This is Aloysius," Merlin said. "Aloysius, Gaius. Aloysius reads minds."

"Only a bit," said Aloysius, and shook Gaius's hand. "Pleased to meet you."

"Likewise, I'm sure," said Gaius. "Merlin, I thought he was-"

"A rat, yes. I found him at Neath and helped him out with that little problem."

"Strictly speaking," Aloysius said, "I found you."

"What's been happening here?" Merlin asked Gaius. "Have you found out anything?"

"Not a thing. They've scoured every inch of countryside but haven't found a single clue. The search party should be back soon."

"I need to find somewhere for Aloysius to stay. Do you think Lord Godwyn will mind?"

"I shouldn't think so. There's always work in a castle this big. So long as he keeps out of trouble."

"I have no idea why everyone seems to think that might be difficult," said Aloysius.

"I think your reputation must have preceded you," said Merlin, wryly.

"I'll introduce you to the person in charge of the kitchens, I'm sure they can use some help down there," Gaius said. "Now, Merlin, why don't you pop through to the King's chambers? There's someone there who'll be pleased to see you."

"In Uther's room?"

Gaius raised an eyebrow, otherwise refusing to restate the obvious. 

"Who?"

"You'll see. Come on Aloysius, let's go down to the kitchens and find you some gainful employment."

Merlin went straight through to Uther's chambers, scarcely pausing to knock before going through.

Kneeling on the floor by Uther's chair, patiently cleaning up spilled food into a bucket, was someone Merlin really, really hadn't expected to see.

"Gwen?!"

She looked up, obviously pleased to see him. "Merlin! Oh, Merlin!"

She scrambled to her feet and rushed into his arms; he held her tight in a long hug that felt unspeakably comforting, for all that he should have been the one comforting her. 

"I'm sorry," Merlin said. "I couldn't…." He glanced at Uther, who was staring out of the window, apparently oblivious. But Merlin lowered his voice just in case. "I couldn't find him."

"I guessed as much. Gaius sent for me, I got here as soon as I can."

"I do have some idea where he might be. I don't think he's in danger, not yet. I…" Again, he glanced at Uther. "I'll tell you the details later. Are you all right?"

"I'm fine. I feel better now I'm here. All I could do back at Camelot was worry, even before this happened. I'd much rather have something useful to do."

"You'll be bored silly when you're Queen," said Merlin, teasing.

"Merlin!"

"Is Uther…."

They both turned to look at the King, but he remained impassive, staring at nothing. An empty shell.

"The blessing is," Gwen whispered, "I don't think he knows."

"It's probably best that way," Merlin said. "Come on, I'll help you clear up here and we can go and get something to eat. I've been riding all day, I'm starving."

"Thank you, Merlin. I must say, you're taking this very well."

He gripped her hands firmly, looked into her eyes and said, "That's because there's nothing to worry about. He's going to be fine. All right?"

She smiled, more brightly than before, and squeezed his hands in return. 

"Now, let's clear up this mess," he said.

*

On their way down to the kitchens Merlin noticed Princess Elena and her father in entrance hall; she looked tired and travel-worn.

"She's been out since first light," Gwen said. "They all have."

Lord Godwyn squeezed his daughter's hands and kissed her cheek, his face lined with worry. Merlin took a deep breath and turned his attention firmly to food.

The kitchens were bustling with activity as the kitchen staff prepared the evening meal for Lord Godwyn and his guests. Gwen instructed Merlin to wait in the doorway while she disappeared into the hubbub, returning a few moments later with a plate laden with bread, cheese, ham and a big juicy apple. Gwen led him down a short corridor to a room with rows of big wooden tables where the servants ate. There Merlin sat and tucked in enthusiastically to his supper. Gwen refused to eat anything; she claimed she'd eat later, but Merlin wasn't sure he believed her. He was about to elicit a firm promise on the subject when Sir Odric's servant, Leonard, came in. 

"Merlin! I thought I saw you disappear down here. Where did you get to the past couple of days?" Leonard asked. 

"Looking for Arthur," said Merlin, with his mouth mostly full of bread. He noticed Gwen's look of bemused disapproval and hastily chewed and swallowed before speaking again. "I had a hunch, but it didn't work out."

"Terrible business," said Leonard.

"Ah, you know Arthur," said Merlin. "Never a dull moment."

"It's a worry, isn't it?" said Leonard. "I remember once, Sir Odric went on a quest to slay a some magical beast with some of the other knights. I didn't go, there was a cousin's wedding or somesuch, and next I know the rest of the party come home without him. Said they'd lost sight of him in the forest. He turned up a day or so later, but I'll tell you, those were the longest nights of my life."

"I'm glad he came back," said Gwen. 

Leonard patted her arm kindly. "Arthur will too. You'll see. Now, I'd better get back upstairs. They'll be back any minute. Who knows, maybe they'll have found him!"

Gwen gave him a hopeful smile, although Merlin doubted it reflected how she felt inside. Leonard stole a bit of cheese off Merlin's plate and went on his way.

"I can't imagine him without Sir Odric," said Gwen. "They've been glued at the hip ever since Sir Odric lost his wife."

"I didn't know Sir Odric was married. How did she die?"

"She didn't die. She just went home and married someone else."

"What?" said Merlin, confused.

"The way I understand it, when Sir Odric's father died he made it a condition of Odric's inheritance that he should marry a nice girl from a noble family. Sir Odric was very unhappy about the idea, but there was no getting out of it. Eventually he did marry her, but the union only lasted a few months before she left him, and not long after that she remarried. Apparently although they'd been joined as man and wife they had never actually…." Gwen coughed delicately. "They hadn't completed the marriage, if you know what I mean."

"Oh!" said Merlin. 

"Odric disappeared from Court for a while, but when he came back it was decided that he'd satisfied the terms of his father's will in the legal sense, so he inherited and was free to do as he wished."

"And that's when Leonard went to work for him?"

"Yes. As soon as Odric was a knight of Camelot, Leonard resigned from the royal guard and Odric made him his manservant. But they'd known each other for a long time. Since before Odric's father died. Well enough to have been the cause of Odric's marital problems, if you believe gossip. Which, obviously, one shouldn't."

"Obviously," said Merlin, with a grin.

"Anyway, I'm glad we're not like that," she said.

"Not like what?"

"Like Odric and his… problems."

Merlin frowned. "Sorry, I'm not with you."

"I'm glad it's not awkward between us," said Gwen, and at that moment Merlin began to understand what she was talking about, and it suddenly felt _very_ awkward. 

"Well," he said.

"I think if it had been anyone else, I might have felt jealous. But I can't be jealous of you, Merlin. I see how much he needs you."

"He needs you more," Merlin said.

"No, I don't think that's true. I think you give him something more, something… it feels so right. I honestly can't imagine him without you."

"Well, I'm not going anywhere," Merlin said, lightly, desperately racking his brains for something else to talk about.

"I like to think that it'll always be like this," said Gwen, very softly.

"Like what?"

"You, and me, and Arthur. Whatever happens when he becomes King, I don't want you to think you'd have to give him up or anything."

"Give him up? Don't you mean he'd give me up? I'm his servant, not the other way around."

They looked at each other; Merlin in confusion; Gwen wide-eyed as she realised Merlin didn't understand.

"I'm not talking about you being his servant, Merlin," she said. "I meant as his-" She lowered her voice to barely more than a whisper. "-lover."

Time slowed to treacle and Merlin blinked: once, twice, and then the world started up again and his heart was knocking like a woodpecker. "But you…." Words deserted him.

"It's all right, Merlin," she said. "I understand."

"You don't mind," said Merlin.

"Of course not! It would be a bit late to start worrying about it now, wouldn't it?"

She was smiling, a bit disconcerted that Merlin was obviously not behaving as she expected, but there was no jealousy or malice there.

"Can I ask you something?" Merlin said.

"Of course. Anything."

"Do you ever talk to him about me? In that way, I mean?"

"No! Well, it would hardly be proper," Gwen said. "And besides, it's never been an issue, you and he were, um, long before I realised I had feelings for him. It just seemed natural, really. That's what I meant, about it not being awkward for us. He has you, and me, and you're my best friend, and we all trust each other."

"Yes," said Merlin, stunned. "I suppose we do."

"I mean, it's not awkward, is it?"

"No. No, it…. No."

"And perhaps, when he's King-"

Merlin never got to hear what Gwen hoped for Arthur's kingship; the door burst open and Leonard rushed into the room. 

"Merlin, come quickly! Gaius wants you! It's the search party?"

A shiver ran down Merlin's spine. "What's wrong?"

"They haven't come back," said Leonard.

"Well, it's late," Merlin said. "But still-"

"No, you don't understand," said Leonard. "They're gone. They found their horses. The knights are _gone_!"

*


	5. Chapter 5

The torches in the courtyard were a blur as Merlin ran to the stables, Gwen and Leonard close behind him. John was busy taking charge of the dozen or so horses Lord Godwyn's guards had just handed over to him; he gave Merlin a grim nod as he approached.

"Where were they?" Merlin panted, out of breath from his sprint from the kitchens.

"At the edge of the forest," said the Guard nearest to him. 

"All together?"

"Yep. Strangest thing, they were just standing there, good as gold. Not even cropping grass, until one of the lads laid a hand on one of 'em." The Guard looked grim. "It was an enchantment. No getting away from it."

"Oh no," said Gwen, reaching out to pet the sleek neck of the horse closest to her - Leon's chestnut stallion, if Merlin wasn't mistaken. "Poor thing."

"Never mind the horses," said another guard. "What about them that was riding 'em?"

"They'll be found," said the first guard, firmly. "Come on, men. Follow me."

The guards followed their leader towards the castle, taking most of the torches with them. Merlin noticed Leonard with a grey mare, presumably Sir Odric's. Leonard had buried his face in the horse's mane; Merlin looked away.

"Can we help?" Gwen asked John. 

"No, that's fine. You and young Merlin here get back inside, I've got my lads here to help get this lot rubbed down and fed. They look healthy enough; whatever this enchantment was it hasn't done them any harm."

"That's good, at least," said Merlin.

"I think we should go and speak with Gaius," said Gwen. "Perhaps he'll know something about what sort of magic could do this."

"What about Leonard?" said Merlin.

The groom looked over Merlin's shoulder, where Leonard was still standing, one arm slung over the mare's withers. His face was wet with tears.

"Leave him with me," John said, kindly. "I'll keep his mind occupied for a bit mixing hot feed. Reckon that's the best thing after that kind of shock."

"Yes," said Merlin, softly. "Thank you."

He felt Gwen's hand take his in the dark. He clasped her fingers gratefully in return.

*

They found Gaius in the corridor outside the Great Hall, having just left an audience with Lord Godwyn. He explained as they walked towards their chambers, how devastated Lord Godwyn was, and how he'd sought Gaius's counsel. 

"Godwyn's shutting down the castle," he said as they rounded the corner to their corridor. "He feels he has no alternative."

Merlin stopped in his track, appalled. "He can't do that! I have to get out there and start looking!"

"I know that's what you want, but he's convinced that those woods are dangerous and the threat might move closer, whatever it is. He has his people's safety to consider."

"They don't all live in the castle, surely?"

"Of course not. He's sent out patrols to keep them informed and offer them sanctuary. But his population's scattered through the mountains; this isn't Camelot."

Gwen looked almost as concerned as Merlin felt. "Is he just going to hide?"

"Until he's worked out exactly what's happening, yes. Lord Godwyn is a cautious man, and he doesn't have Uther's experience of magic and battle. His is a peaceful kingdom, as a rule."

"I can't leave them all out there, Gaius! There must be secret doors or passages or something!"

"Even if there are, how would we find them?" Gaius said. "People don't go around sharing all their secrets with other kingdoms, however strong their alliances."

"But-"

Merlin was interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps; he quickly silenced himself and gave the signal to Gaius and Gwen to do the same. 

"I can get you out," said Aloysius.

"I seriously doubt that," said Merlin.

"That's not a very nice welcome to the person who's just solved your problems," said Aloysius. "And also-" he turned an expert smile on Gwen and bowed deeply, "-you have forgotten your manners."

"I'm Gwen," said Gwen. "And you are…."

"Aloysius de Savante. At your service, madam."

"She's Arthur's," said Merlin. "You're wasting your time."

"I should not presume to imagine she might be interested in a wretch like me, whoever her other suitors may be," said Aloysius, smoothly.

"I don't have time for this," said Merlin. "Can you get me out of here or not?"

"Of course I can," said Aloysius. "I've been dicing with some of the guards up on the battlements. They were very forthcoming, although sadly they're now also a bit poor." He jingled loose change in his pocket. "But shall we go somewhere a little more private? This is hardly a suitable conversation for a corridor, now, is it?"

Merlin gave an impatient sigh, but Aloysius was right, of course. All too aware of precious minutes ticking by, Merlin led them all into Arthur's empty chambers.

*

As soon as the castle had quieted for the night, Merlin crept from his room to an old corridor at the extreme end of the west wing of the castle. The rooms here had fallen to disuse, furniture covered with sheeting and floors bearing a tell-tale layer of dust. Merlin stalked the hall, his torch casting light on the walls for the first time in decades.

According to Aloysius, this part of the castle had mostly been the domain of Elena's mother. When she died Lord Godwyn couldn't bring himself to come here any more, and in his grief was never able to reassign the rooms or even have her things packed away. 

Merlin came to the room Aloysius had described: a large chamber with generous windows which would once have let bright sunshine play across the floor. Through the covers Merlin could make out a spinning wheel, and there was a large box full of the soft shapes like bundled yarn or soft fleece. 

Merlin wondered if Elena's mother had sat in this room, full-bellied with child, spinning happily and talking with her handmaidens and ladies of the court, excited for the start of her family. He could imagine it all too well.

Merlin kept his eyes fixed firmly on the neglected fireplace, and approached it with care.

He ran his fingers over the soot-stained stone until he found a ridge, felt the faint brush of a breeze coming between two bricks. He pushed; there was a grinding noise, but nothing happened.

He held his hand over the stones and whispered: _~Open~_.

The grinding noise came again, louder this time, and the back of the fireplace shifted. 

As soon as the crack that formed was big enough, Merlin slipped through it, into the dark beyond.

*

The tunnel was long and very narrow, and would have been pitch black darkness but for Merlin's torch. No light ahead signalled his arrival at the end of the passageway, no door or iron grill, not even a breath of a breeze. The air remained stale, and the only clue Merlin had that he had reached the outside of the castle was a wall of rubble. 

Merlin stepped back, summoned his magic and blasted his way through boulders until he could see the night sky beyond. Before the dust settled he scrambled his way through, the smell of rain and peat filling his senses a welcome relief from the stifling tunnel. 

He looked around swiftly, taking stock. He'd emerged from a steep bank, and there was another ahead of him. He could see the castle in the distance, and a rough-build wall to his right, likely a farm enclosure or similar. He paused to pass an illusion over the hole he'd just blasted, blending it seamlessly with its surroundings of grass and bracken, and scrambled up the opposite bank. He emerged, muddy and grass-stained, at a thin, neglected path that edged a thick forest of trees.

Merlin checked his bearings: this was the forest where the knights had disappeared. Not only had he escaped the castle but he'd come out exactly where he wanted to be. He took a moment to give silent thanks to Aloysius.

Merlin picked his way through the trees, torch firmly in hand, until he found the place where the horses had been found. The spot was obvious; the ground was churned with hoof-prints. 

But when Merlin looked closer, he noticed something more disturbing.

The hoof-prints were deep, forming puddles as rain ran down to the ground from the leaves above them. But there were _only_ hoof-prints. Not so much as a hint of a human boot or shoe. No sign of a scuffle. Nothing.

"We'll see about that," Merlin murmured. He extinguished his torch and reached out a hand towards the very heart of the forest. 

_~Path of the unseen creatures, be seen; in the stillness let your path of flight be shown~_

Merlin slowed time, and watched.

After a few slow heart beats a path of shimmering light twinkled a foot or so above ground where the horses had been found. It thinned and stretched into a line of shining dust, faint but undeniably there, a clear path through the forest towards the North. 

Merlin smiled to himself, and was about to let time run fast again when he caught the merest flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye. He span around, scanning the trees and earth for anything out of the ordinary.

But there was nothing to be seen.

*


	6. Chapter 6

The trail took Merlin deep into the forest, where the trees were so dense and tall that even the moonlight failed to penetrate their cover. Merlin had to tread carefully; if he lit a torch he wouldn't be able to see even the faint glimmer of the shining dust that guided him. It took all his concentration and his body screamed for rest, but he couldn't; he didn't dare risk the trail going cold, or harm befalling the knights and Arthur.

So he forced himself on through the trees, hoping for a miracle - but a miracle he didn't get.

He got a stream.

Merlin's heart sank as soon as he heard the rushing water; the spell he'd cast bound the echoes of the faeries' presence into places they'd touched: the earth they'd walked on, the trees they'd touched in flight. The water they'd crossed was long gone. This stream was fresh flowing water, and once broken the trail would be lost just as Arthur's hounds would lose a beast's scent. 

Merlin approached the stream in despair and was about to slump, desolate, on a fallen log, when he noticed someone by the water. They were squatting down to drink, raising a hand from the stream to their lips and there was a glint, a familiar clink of armour….

Merlin forced down his initial excitement, reminding himself that faerie-folk were masters of trickery and deception. Instead he crept closer, one silent step at a time, until he could be certain.

"… Lancelot?"

The figure leapt to his feet, hand on his sword, looking wildly around him. 

"Here," said Merlin. He relit his torch with a single gesture. "It's me."

"Merlin!" They embraced, the firm squeeze of Lancelot's arm around Merlin's shoulders familiar and reassuring. "What on earth are you doing here?" Lancelot asked. 

"I came to rescue everyone," said Merlin. "It's very good to see you. Where are the others?"

Lancelot's face fell. "I failed them."

"Why? What happened? Did you find Arthur?"

Lancelot shook his head. 

"Are you hurt? Was there a battle?"

"No, I'm fine. Shamefully so-"

"God, no, are they….?" Merlin couldn't bring himself to speak the word.

"They were alive the last time I saw them, but I fear for them, truly I do, Merlin. It was terrible."

"What happened?" 

Lancelot shivered and for the first time Merlin noticed how cold and pale his friend looked. Merlin beckoned him to the log and set about building a small fire as Lancelot told his story.

"We'd been searching all day," Lancelot said. "Through the forest and into the hills. We found nothing, and after pausing to rest and water the horses we started making our way back to the castle. After a few miles Sir Leon remarked that things seemed different, and we all shared that same sense, but couldn't explain exactly how. It was as if we were in the same forest, but at the same time not; the path was the same and yet unfamiliar. I can't fully explain it, it was the strangest feeling. There were strange noises, like the hooting of owls. Then, all at once, we came across a clearing that I swear had not been there before - and in its centre, a fountain."

"A fountain?" Merlin lit the fire with a swift gesture; Lancelot smiled and raised an eyebrow; as much as he supported and respected Merlin's power, it was as if it still surprised him sometimes. 

"Yes, an elegantly carved fountain. It looked as if it should have been in the palace of a King, not in the middle of a forest. And there was singing. The most beautiful singing, like the ringing of bells."

"This fountain," Merlin said, a sinking feeling in his stomach. "I don't suppose it was carved of an unusual white stone, with carvings of beautiful women not wearing very much?"

"Yes! Yes, that's exactly right. How could you know that? It wasn't like any fountain I'd ever seen. The stone was so smooth, like glass."

"I think I've seen it before. What happened next?"

"A group of ladies appeared, gracious and beautiful, dressed in very thin dresses, indecently so. They beckoned us closer, and to my surprise all but I stepped forwards, gladly. One by one they were led towards the fountain despite my protestations and, well, very unseemly things occurred."

"But not to you?"

Lancelot hung his head. "No. I tried to intervene, tried to talk to them, but they were completely lost, engaging in the most debauched…. I'm sorry, Merlin. I can't inflict you with the details."

Merlin suppressed a little smile. Poor Lancelot. "You remained unaffected?"

"Yes, completely. I could not understand what was happening. Then one of the ladies…."

"Yes?"

Lancelot murmured something that even Merlin's sharp ears couldn't catch.

"Pardon?" Merlin said. 

"She blew me a kiss," Lancelot whispered.

"That's nice. Well, sort of. It's a compliment, I suppose."

"I don't think so. Next thing I knew, the fountain was gone, and all my comrades lost."

"I'm sure they weren't lost. We'll find them. Why do you suppose they spared you?"

"She said something, when she blew the kiss," Lancelot muttered. 

"What did she say?"

"She said I was too… innocent." Lancelot shifted uncomfortably. "I'd really rather not discuss it, Merlin."

Merlin couldn't help but grin; he patted Lancelot's knee in consolation. "That's a good thing, Lancelot. Thanks to your innocence, I know where to find the knights. Where was the fountain?"

"It was half a league from here, but I hold no faith that we could find it now. I fear they are imprisoned forever, Merlin, and all because of my slow wits!"

"There's nothing you could do," Merlin said gently. "I've seen their enchantment before, but I know how to break it. It'll be light soon. We'll rest until then, and I'll think of a plan. It'll be all right, Lancelot. I promise."

"I have no doubt in your abilities, my friend. But the fountain has vanished. How will we ever find it again?"

"Leave that to me," said Merlin. "Now, get some sleep. You must be exhausted."

Lancelot looked weary to his very bones, and was willing, for now, to settle by the fire at Merlin's side, and sleep.

Merlin stared into the darkness, the surge of water from the stream filling his senses, and wished with all his heart he knew where Arthur was.  
*

 

_Emrys_

"Kilgharrah?"

"Do I sound like a bloody huge dragon?"

Merlin opened his eyes.

A little round face was looking down at him, her girlish features set in an expression of irritated disapproval. 

"Carlin! What are you doing here?"

"You wished, didn't you?"

Merlin pushed up onto his elbows, realising that he wasn't dreaming. It was still dark, and Lancelot slept just a few feet away. The fire had barely burned down. "You mean if I wish, you just appear?" Merlin waved a finger. "Poof! I can summon you?"

"Don't get carried away with yourself, Warlock. Actually I've been looking for you for ages. The Sirens are having an orgy with your knights."

"I know. Lancelot here narrowly escaped."

Carlin giggled, her little wings fluttering in time with her laughter. "There was nothing narrow about it, Merlin. Your friend is so pure and steadfast in his attentions, that trying to seduce him would have given the Ladies a headache."

Merlin smiled. "That doesn't surprise me, really."

"So. Have you missed me?"

"Well, things have been really busy."

"It's been two years, Merlin!"

Merlin shrugged apologetically.

"Anyway," Carlin continued, with a sidelong glance that had something quite huffy about it. "You've got yourself in a bit of a pickle, haven't you?"

"Tell me about it! Arthur's got himself kidnapped! And now the knights have got themselves seduced! This is what my life's like all the time, you know. I wouldn't mind having a few months off to read books and go for nice long walks and not be worried sick, I really wouldn't! But no, they're always off getting themselves kidnapped and attacked and enchanted. You have to watch them every minute of every day. Honestly!"

"There there," said Carlin, without conviction. "Never mind. Now, do you want me to help, or not?"

"That would be nice," Merlin admitted.

"Follow the stream north, towards its source in the mountains. The sirens can't be too far from fresh water, so they've moved their fountain about five miles upstream. You'll have to wait until morning; you'll never find it in the dark."

"How am I going to break the enchantment?"

"Oh, you'll think of something. You did all right with Arthur."

"Only barely!"

"Well, this time Arthur won't be there distracting you with his huge muscles or whatever it is you like about him."

"His eyes," said Merlin in a small, unguarded moment. "Mostly his stupid eyes."

Carlin smiled kindly, almost more kindly than Merlin could bear, so he swiftly changed the subject. "Let's say I do manage to break the enchantment. What's to stop them trapping us in another way? The sirens made the knights think they'd ridden for leagues when really they'd barely made it off their horses! What's to stop them doing it again?"

"What on earth makes you think they did that?"

"I followed their trail here," Merlin said. "The horses left no tracks, but the sirens did."

"Actually, that was my trail," said Carlin.

"What?"

"I hid all sign of the knight's passage. I didn't want anyone else following them into peril. You remember how perilous it is, right?"

Merlin frowned. Something didn't add up here.

"Why?" he said.

"Why what?" said Carlin, innocently.

"Why, honestly, were you busy covering the sirens' tracks? If I hadn't cast that spell and picked up _your_ trail I wouldn't have been able to find them either!"

"That's why I'm here. To point you in the right direction. Now, you really probably ought to get some sleep, you've got a big day ahead of you tomorrow."

Merlin crossed his arms in front of his chest, and gave Carlin the sternest look he could muster. "No."

She shrugged. "Don't blame me if you're all grumpy in the morning."

"What's going on?" Merlin said. "What's _really_ going on?"

"Well, let's see. You know some very, very stupid, brave, shiny knights, and one very stupid, brave, shiny prince with nice eyes, and they keep getting themselves enchanted and kidnapped all over the place. Did I get everything?"

"I know that," said Merlin dismissively. "What about _you_. Where do you fit into all this?"

"Er… I'm coming to your rescue, remember?"

"Why?"

"What do you mean, why?"

"Carlin, you're a faery. I may not have learned much about you but I _do_ know a lot about faery-folk. You're not to be trusted."

"You ungrateful little wizard!" Carlin drew herself to her full height, and beat her wings angrily, rising so she was eye to eye with Merlin. "I've saved your life, _and_ your silly Arthur's!"

"I know. And I'm grateful. But you still haven't answered my question. And I'm not taking a step towards that fountain until you do."

"Emrys! How _dare_ you?!"

"Yes," said Merlin, and stood, his eyes just as steely as hers. "Emrys. The warlock of prophecy with more power than the world has ever seen, power I could unleash at any moment. So. Tell me. What's going on?"

Carlin's wings stilled, and she floated gently to the ground. Her face was flushed with anger, but Merlin sensed surrender.

"It's complicated," she said.

"I'm brighter than I look," said Merlin. "Try me."

"The faery world is just like the mortal world in many ways. We're not all one race, or one kingdom. There's many of us, and we all have our own interests. Sometimes those interests are in harmony, but often they're not."

"I understand," said Merlin. 

"When you killed the King of the Sidhe, Avalon was thrown into chaos. The power vacuum it created was unheard of: Sidhe don't _die_ , Merlin, they're immortal, unless they cross to the human world. You bridged a gap that no-one had ever bridged before. Ever since then the faeries have been trying to make sense of what happened and what it means for their world. They know Emrys will come, and some of us think you might actually bring about this golden age of Albion that everyone's dreamed of. But the Sidhe can't believe their saviour is the same man who killed their King, and want no part of Arthur's world. Many others mean mischief to him, and will work willingly for the Sidhe to prevent him taking the throne."

"Including the sirens."

"Exactly. The Ladies have pledged their allegiance to the Sidhe and will do anything they can to keep Arthur from becoming King."

"I have to find him," Merlin said, anxiety clenching in the pit of his stomach. "I have to protect him!"

"Yes, but first, the knights," she said. "Surely you need the knights?"

Merlin frowned. "It's always a choice. My power, or the power of others."

"It won't always be that way, Emrys," Carlin said, with a little smile, her anger already forgotten. "One day you will wield your power openly, with Arthur at your side. And it will be _glorious_."

That thought grew in Merlin, banishing the fear and despair. He smiled at Carlin, things at last becoming clear.

"Yes," he said. "It will."

*

Merlin knelt by the stream to wash his face. It was light at last, and Lancelot was looking much better, his armour shining in the morning sun as he swept away signs of their little camp just in case they should be followed. Merlin scooped water over his head, not even minding when some dripped down his neck; it was refreshing and sharpened his mind. 

"Merlin!"

Merlin looked over his shoulder and said in unison with Lancelot, "Gwen!"

She was dressed in riding trousers, a leather bag slung over one shoulder, and she held a leash, at the other end of which was a very eager ferret.

"She brought me to you," she said. "Isn't she clever?"

"Too clever for her own good," said Merlin. 

"My lady, you should not have come," Lancelot said. "It's dangerous! If anything should happen to you I would never forgive myself."

"Nothing's going to happen to me," said Gwen. "Besides, I had to come. Lord Godwyn's men found something at last. A villager said she saw a woman in a green dress taking Arthur to a lake not far from here, or at least someone who looked a lot like him."

"That's marvellous news!" said Lancelot, beaming from ear to ear. "Do you know where we can find this lake?"

"Yes, I have a map." Gwen retrieved it from her bag and passed it to Merlin. "It's only half a day's walk, I think."

"How did you get out of the castle?" Merlin asked, unrolling the map with shaking hands. 

"I spoke with Princess Elena - she's the one who gave me the map. She was very understanding, and helped me to slip past the guards. I'm sorry I couldn't bring any horses."

"Never mind," said Merlin. "You've done so well to find us. Both of you!"

He reached down to make a fuss of Ferox, but to his surprise she was hunkered close to the ground, making an odd little growling noise. He followed her gaze to a clump of bushes nearby, and saw a hint of movement.

Merlin signalled to the others to be quiet, and took a step closer. 

The bushes rustled, and a rabbit hopped out, dark brown with a white bobtail and big black whiskers.

Merlin laughed with relief. "It's all right," he said. "It's just a-"

The rabbit shimmered and grew, and in an instant it was gone. In it's place, naked and grinning, was Aloysius.

Gwen let out a little scream before clamping her hand over her mouth. Then her eyes. Then her mouth again.

"Neat trick, eh?" Aloysius said. 

"You were a rabbit," Gwen said.

"Parlour trick," said Merlin, glaring at Aloysius. "Trick of the light. Are you going to put some clothes on or what?" 

"Oops!"

 _He can change form_ , Merlin thought. _How did that happen?_

It was one mystery he really didn't have time to solve just now.

"Please," said Lancelot, passing Aloysius his cloak. "You're in the presence of a lady!"

"Thanks," said Aloysius. "I'm sorry I startled you," he told Gwen. "I followed to make sure you were all right."

"I'm fine, thank you," said Gwen.

"Also, there was a small problem with the kitchens," Aloysius added. "I had to leave in the middle of something and don't think I'll be going back there again."

"What did you do?" said Merlin, eyes narrowing.

"It was a misunderstanding!" Aloysius said. "With one of the chambermaids and a tapered candle. It could happen to anyone!"

"You're disgusting," said Merlin.

"I love you, too," said Aloysius. "So, can I tag along with you for a bit?"

"Only if you behave," said Merlin, sternly. "Or I swear I'll tie you naked to that tree and leave you to the crows, understand?"

"Try if you like," Aloysius said. "I'll just turn myself into a snake and-" He wiggled his fingers, "-slither away. Haha! Just kidding, of course. No-one can do that." Aloysius gave Merlin a huge wink. 

"No," said Merlin, firmly. "They can't."

*

Lancelot fashioned the cloak into a makeshift tunic for Aloysius, while Merlin caught Gwen up with the news about the knights.

"What will happen to them if we can't rescue them?" Gwen asked.

"I'm not sure. I think the sirens will drain all their energy, but I'm not sure how long it would take for them to suffer any lasting injury."

"And they drain their energy by…."

Merlin shifted uncomfortably. "You don't want to know."

Gwen wrinkled her nose. "Blood sucking?"

"Sex," Merlin blurted out.

"Oh my," said Gwen.

"Yes."

"So what will you do? Rescue them first and then go to find Arthur?"

Merlin looked across the clear water of the stream in front of them, rushing and tumbling over the rocks, the sound of it filling his ears. 

"Arthur first," he said. "I think he's waited long enough, don't you?"

Gwen gave him a huge smile, and squeezed his hand.

*

They found the lake easily with Elena's map. It was small - little more than a pond, really - surrounded by fields on one side and hills rising into the mountains to the north-east. 

That's all they found.

The disappointment ached in Merlin's heart; he knelt at the water's edge and closed his eyes to stop the tears from coming. He'd barely slept for days; he had a dim awareness of hunger although he didn't want to eat and the loss of Arthur that had echoed inside him since the moment he'd lost him now beat loud and hard. 

"Don't give up," Lancelot said. "We're not beaten yet."

And as if to prove him right, there was a cry from Merlin's right, where Gwen and Aloysius had been taking another look for clues.

"Tracks!" said Gwen. "They're not people, but perhaps she had a horse or something?"

A memory chimed in Merlin's mind, and suddenly the clouds lifted. He sprang to his feet and ran to join them. 

He knelt in the dirt and ran his fingers gleefully over the slight imprint they'd found. Small. Two toes. "It's not a horse," he said. "It's a goat."

"Oh," said Gwen. "Sorry."

"No, no, that's good!" Merlin looked around, searching the dust until he found another imprint, and another. "The Glaistig sometimes has the feet of a goat. Gaius said but I'd forgotten! It's her, it must be! Look, it's heading for the lake!"

He looked along the line of the tracks; they went from the path to the lakeshore in a zig-zag line, and then….

They disappeared into the water.

Merlin remembered the Lake of Avalon, and thought that perhaps he understood.

He would have to do this alone.

"No good," he told the others. "Can't tell where they go from here. Lancelot, take Gwen and take another look over there." He gave Lancelot a meaningful look, and thankfully Lancelot picked up on it immediately. 

"Yes," Lancelot said. "Let's see if we can find anything else. Come on, Gwen, Aloysius-"

The three of them looked around.

Aloysius was nowhere to be seen.

"Never mind," said Merlin. "Go on. I'll catch up in a little bit."

"Don't worry, Merlin," said Gwen. "We'll find him."

Merlin nodded, turning away so she couldn't see the hope on his face that made him a liar.

*

Once the others were safely out of sight, Merlin stilled time. There was a new shine on the surface of the lake, a deep blue colour to it he hadn't seen before. 

"You found it, then."

Carlin was standing at his side, wings beating slowly even though she stood on the ground.

"You've been there all along, haven't you?"

"Don't flatter yourself, Warlock. I dip in and out. You're not the centre of my universe, you know."

"How long?"

"On and off since Neath."

"Ah. Neath."

"You'd be surprised if you knew how many beings are watching you, Emrys."

"I'm going to rescue Arthur. You can't stop me."

"You can try," said Carlin. "But think about it. Is this really the wisest thing to do?"

There was no doubt at all in Merlin's mind.

"Yes," he said, and stepped forwards into the lake.

*

The water was soft, its touch more like a breeze than the lapping of a lake. Merlin walked on until the lake closed above his head, a thin ceiling of blue, then closed his eyes.

He opened them to find a different world, where he could breathe and his skin was dry; where there were trees and houses and all the bustle of a village.

But the houses weren't on the ground, and the bustle wasn't the hurrying of feet on earth, but the flutter of wings as faeries flitted from place to place. Merlin might have taken a moment to marvel at it, but his attention was firmly fixed on a pool of water ahead, a lake in a lake, in the heart of the faeries' home. On it's shore stood the Glaistig, yellow hair cascading over one shoulder of her long, green dress.

In the pond sat Arthur, bemused and naked, water pooling around him like a slow-flowing stream. He looked beautiful.

"Let him go," Merlin said, keeping his voice calm and low despite the surge of excitement and relief in his heart.

"Emrys," said the Glaistig, her voice like chiming glass. "And Raidne."

Merlin looked sharply to his left, surprised when Carlin bowed her head respectfully and said, "My Lady."

"But you-"

"I told you, Merlin," Carlin whispered. "I have many names."

"You have come for your King, Emrys," said the Glaistig. "But I fear you have come in vain."

"You can't keep him from me," said Merlin. "I'll do whatever it takes. Anything."

"You would be well advised not to pit your strength against mine," the Glaistig said. "I am not your enemy, nor am I weak."

"Then release him."

"I feel your anguish, Emrys. But I cannot let him leave this place. He is too vulnerable, to easily extinguished."

"That's why he has me. It's my duty, my destiny to care for him. He belongs at my side!"

"He speaks the truth," said Carlin. "The druids say it. The very earth itself says it."

"Then the earth and the druids are wrong! Look how easily your sisters caught him! How easily the witch took his throne! He attracts magic as pollen attracts bees, and he could be killed in a single blow - and with it the hope of ages, of all things!"

"Respectfully, my Lady," said Carlin. "What you say is true. And yet he lives. He lives because he has the protection of the greatest warlock there has ever been. Touch him, my Lady. Feel his power."

The Glaistig stepped closer, her eyes flashing, her lips thin with disapproval.

"Stay still," Carlin whispered to Merlin. "Let it happen."

Merlin stood, and the Glaistig reached out one ancient, withered hand to touch his chest.

The rush all but knocked him off his feet. Magic burst through him, so strong and pure it threatened to steal his mind. He remembered this. Water and a tree, and all the colours of the rainbow. He remembered this.

The Glaistig released him, and he stumbled backwards, struggled to keep his balance.

"It is true," she said, wide-eyed with awe. "Emrys, the all-powerful, in the body of a boy."

"I'm growing," Merlin said, the words coming out as a croak.

The Glaistig chuckled. "Indeed you are, young warlock. Indeed you are."

"Please," said Merlin. "Arthur."

The Glaistig thought a moment more, then said, "I shall release him to your care. Raidne is right, it is a foolish one who fights the wisdom of the earth itself. But never forget, Emrys-" She stood close, so close that he could see the magic swirling in her eyes and catch the faint musk of peat and wood on her breath. "-You carry the hope of the world in this man. Not just the petty human world, but every world, the hope of every faery, every creature that felt the brush of magic in their soul. If you fail, if you let those who would see an end to magic win, you will take the disappointment of horde upon horde of creatures to your grave. Do you understand?"

Merlin swallowed hard. He could see Arthur over the Glaistig's shoulder, water rushing over smooth, golden skin.

"I understand," he said. "Now, please. Give me back the future King of Albion. Now."

The Glaistig smiled, and raised her arm; the sky above them shimmered.

And then the water rushed in.

*

Merlin swam as hard as he could, Arthur a dead weight clinging to his shoulders. He finally reached the shore to find Carlin waiting for him, watching impatiently as he dragged Arthur out of the water.

"You could lend a hand," he panted, before flopping down on the rough shingle at Arthur's side.

"I thought I already did," said Carlin.

"Yes. Thanks," gasped Merlin. "But there's just one thing."

She waited, eyebrow arched, while Merlin caught his breath.

"She called the sirens your sisters," Merlin said. "Is that what you are, a siren?"

Carlin sighed. "It's what I was. A long, long time ago. But one day my sisters and I stumbled upon the pool at Neath. My sisters would not go near it, horrified by the stench of the magic of the Old Religion coming from that place. But I felt differently. I bathed in the pool regardless, and afterwards my sisters shunned me. The druids found me, months later, half-starved and half-mad with loneliness and fear. They sheltered and healed me, and taught me their ways. And so I became the Corrigan."

"Can you control them?"

Carlin's wings fluttered. "I have some influence. In a manner of speaking."

Merlin checked on Arthur's breathing; it was calm and steady, although he remained unconscious. 

Merlin's fingers lingered on Arthur's pulse, just for the pleasure of touching his skin.

"It was you, wasn't it?" Merlin said. "You were the woman who brought the sirens to the tower. Did you bring them to the forest, too?"

"The druids have taught me how to hide my power. I can't be around the Ladies very long, but I visit from time to time. I heard the whispers about Arthur, the worries some of our kind had about his ability to survive, and the good in his heart. The druids told me to have faith in Emrys, but I wanted proof."

"He's just a man, Carlin. He's the bravest, strongest, most noble, honourable man I've ever met, but he's also arrogant, pompous and really, really condescending sometimes. He's got flaws, just like the rest of us."

"Oh, Merlin. You can be so dense sometimes. It wasn't Arthur I was testing. It was you."

Merlin blinked at her, silenced by surprise and more than a little indignance. 

"I must go," she said. "I'll summon my sisters to the woodland back along the road from here. The fountain will appear there within the hour; you know what to do."

"Can't you just tell them to let the knights go?"

"Really, Merlin. You can be very demanding sometimes."

"Can't you?"

"We'll see," she said.

Arthur coughed and spluttered; Merlin immediately rushed to attend to him.

When he glanced back, she was gone.

Arthur's eyes opened at last, and he looked up at Merlin, and grinned. 

"Did we win?" he said.

"Kind of," said Merlin. "We've got one more thing to do. Can you walk?"

"Sure, why not?" said Arthur, and let Merlin help him to his feet.

He stood there, swaying for a moment.

"Actually, Merlin, I think I might need…."

Merlin pulled Arthur's arm around his neck, caught him and held him tight. "No problem," he said.

They turned to the path just as Gwen and Lancelot came sprinting over the grass to meet them. Gwen flew at Arthur to give him a huge hug, almost unbalancing all three of them. Lancelot restrained himself to a manly slap on Arthur's shoulder.

"Well, I should get kidnapped more often," Arthur said, giving Gwen a little squeeze before he let her go. "You've even brought the ferret."

Ferox had escaped her leash and was winding herself around Arthur's feet, making little squeaking noises, until Merlin hushed her and Gwen got her harness back on. "It's a good thing you taught her to track people," Merlin said. "Much more useful than hunting."

"Really, Merlin. You're such a girl."

"In fact, after this I'm not sure I'm ever going to let you go hunting again."

"Don't be ridiculous, Merlin. Now, what's this one more thing we have to do?"

"We've mislaid your knights somewhere in the forest," said Merlin. "They might need rescuing."

"Oh," said Arthur. "Well, we'd better get on with it, hadn't we?"

The four of them set off on the path, all talking at once to try and get Arthur up to speed.

*

The fountain came into view near the woods, just where Carlin had said it would be. Lancelot bid them stop as soon as the distant gleam of water and white stone was visible.

"This is very dangerous," he said. "I must go alone."

"No," said Merlin. "I'll go."

"I really think I should-" Arthur started, but he was instantly silenced by a chorus of "No!" from everyone else.

"I used to be the one giving the orders around here," he grumbled, but he didn't put up a fight.

"Merlin and I will go together," said Lancelot. "Gwen, you take care of Arthur."

"I think you've got that the wrong way around," protested Arthur.

"Of course, Sire," said Lancelot, with a little bow. "My apologies, Sire."

"Keep an eye on him, Gwen," said Merlin, and ran ahead with Lancelot before Arthur could smack him.

"Do you have a plan?" Lancelot said, as they jogged towards the fountain.

"I'm hoping we won't need one," Merlin said, but even as the words escaped his mouth he saw a small figure in white huddled near the fountain.

"Oh no," Merlin whispered. "Carlin!"

The figure wasn't moving. The fountain stood, looking just like an ordinary fountain, except that it couldn't possibly be there; the water that flowed from the ornately carved spout at the top came from nowhere, flowed to nowhere. Merlin could see colours and shapes swirling inside.

Merlin knelt at Carlin's side. "Carlin! Are you all right?"

She was curled up on her side, one of her wings a tattered mess, blood staining her white dress. Merlin palmed her cheek, desperately looking for any sign of life.

She shuddered; her eyes opened a fraction, and she whispered hoarsely: "My sisters have grown overly fond of your knights, I think."

"Wait, wait, I'll heal you!" Merlin's hand hovered over the wound in her chest, his eyes slipping closed as he gathered his magic.

"No," she said. "It's too late. Go, quickly. My sisters are weak, but they regain their strength even as we speak. Go!"

Merlin hesitated, and she pushed him away, shouting now, "Go!"

Blinking tears away, Merlin turned his magic towards the fountain, sending a blast of fire towards the impossible water. 

"Leave those men alone!" he yelled. "Do you hear me? Release them!"

An ear-piercing shriek came from the fountain.

"Release them! Or taste the full force of my power!"

Lancelot stood ready with his sword; Merlin kept his magic tight, ready to unleash it at any moment. 

Another shriek, and the water whirled around the fountain; the carvings writhed and Merlin saw the structure lifting from the ground. He was about to unleash another torrent of magic, afraid the fountain would retreat to the faerie world and the knights be lost for ever. 

"You will rue the day you crossed us, Emrys!"

Water poured from the fountain and within it were the shapes of men. Leon, Gwaine, Odric and more, projected high into the air, too high, far too high for them to land safely.

Merlin put all his power into slowing the water, shaping it, changing the massive surge into a gentle slide, then a still pool, catching the knights one by one with a gentle splash before seeping into the ground.

Another spout ejected armour and cloaks, Pendragon red floating down from the sky. 

The fountain shimmered to nothing, vanished.

"Check on them!" Merlin yelled to Lancelot, and raced back to Carlin.

She was still and her skin cool; he cradled her in his arms, tears streaming down his face. She looked so young, so innocent, for all that he knew her true identity. It was the young girl he'd met in the market at Grassmere that Merlin cradled in his arms and rocked.

He heard the faintest rustle of breath from her lips. He put his hand to her heart and this time didn't hesitate.

_~Heal~_

"Why the tears, Warlock?" she whispered, before falling into a deep but living sleep.

*

 

Lancelot was reuniting the knights with their clothing when the others joined them. They were dazed and very wet, but seemed unharmed and like Arthur showed little sign of remembering their ordeal, although Gwaine had said "Well, that was fun!" with a stupid grin on his face just before he passed out.

Arthur brought his ragged band of men back together, and bid them rest a while before they made their way back to Lord Godwyn's castle.

Merlin left Carlin in Gwen's care, and headed for the stream. He sat himself down on a big flat rock by the water and started to unbuckle his boots. Arthur arrived at his side and gave him a disgusted, wrinkly-nosed look, but Merlin ignored him. He hadn't had a bath for days, apart from an abrupt near-drowning in a pond; he felt hot and sticky and definitely not clean, and the stream looked crystal clear and very inviting.

He couldn't quite look at Arthur for the conflicted feelings running through him; now he'd got him back he was suddenly very, very angry that Arthur had given him such a fright, and there were other, confusing feelings stirred up by the things that Gwen had said. 

"Merlin," Arthur said, but Merlin couldn't quite bring himself to look at him, for fear of what might show on his face.

"I didn't mean to get captured," Arthur said, huffily. "There's no need to give me the cold shoulder."

"I'm not giving you the cold shoulder."

"You're sulking, then."

"Nope. Not sulking. I'm tired. And hot. And I'm going for a swim. Are you going to come with me or do you intend on stinking of pondweed and sweat all the way home?"

Arthur sniffed at his armpits. "It's not that bad…. Woah. Well, all right. I suppose someone should make sure you don't drown."

Merlin rolled his eyes and tugged off his shirt.

The cool air was delicious on his skin.

He could feel Arthur's gaze on him.

A moment later Merlin dived into the cool, fresh water of the stream, with Arthur right behind him.

*


	7. Chapter 7

They returned to Lord Godwyn's castle without any further adventure, much to Merlin's relief. Aloysius appeared in the middle of the forest, claiming to have got lost. Merlin took him to one side and told him he was a coward; in return Aloysius told him in no uncertain terms that he, Merlin was the coward, because he'd deprived himself of a lot of hot, sweaty nights with Arthur for no good reason other than a misplaced sense of nobility. At that point Merlin gave up talking to him, and went instead to walk with Lancelot, who carried the sleeping Carlin in his arms.

Every now and then, Lancelot would look at Gwen, and smile a small, painful smile to himself, and Merlin wondered.

He was incredibly relieved to see the towers and pennants of the castle hove into view. He was starving hungry and exhausted, and when arrived he wasn't sure whether he wanted to eat his way through the contents of Lord Godwyn's kitchens first, or simply fall into bed. He passed Carlin over to Gaius who took her up to their rooms. Merlin had managed to wrap her in a cloak in such a way as hid her wings; he'd explained her presence as a random captive of the sirens and nobody had questioned him. 

Merlin decided to care for his belly before his aching limbs, and headed for the kitchens. But he got no further than the door before Leonard, Odric's servant, stood in his way.

"I found him," said Merlin.

"I know," Leonard said. "Thank you."

There were tears in Leonard's eyes as he hugged Merlin, slapping him manfully on the back as if to compensate for such a display of emotion. 

"It's okay," Merlin said. "I understand."

"You know, Merlin, I don't know what goes on in that head of yours. I don't know what happened with you and Arthur, and normally I'd accept that a man's counsel is his own. But today, of all days, with everything that's happened, when I nearly lost…. Life's too short, Merlin, and none of us knows how many days we have. I don't know what you're waiting for, or what went wrong. But I do know love between men when I see it, and I see it in your eyes and Arthur's every day. Today, of all days, put it right. And that's all I'll say to you. Now I have to go and get enough ale to keep me and Odric drunk for about a week."

Leonard pushed past Merlin into the kitchen, leaving him standing motionless in the corridor, as if the world had changed in an instant.

Everything about Arthur that Merlin had thought so complicated was clicking into place.

Suddenly, it was simple.

*

Arthur was in his rooms, dressed in clean clothes: soft brown trousers and his favourite black shirt. Merlin didn't bother knocking, of course: the door was open and he just marched straight through it, straight up to Arthur, and kissed him.

His heart pounded, his whole body came alive, and to his relief and exhilaration Arthur kissed him back for a few short moments, before he pushed him away. But not too far away.

"What on earth was that for," said Arthur. "You're not telling me you did miss me after all?"

Merlin gave Arthur a push on the shoulders, enough to force him back against the wall. "You? Why would I miss you? You make my life miserable! You work me too hard, you never say thank you, you're a complete and utter dollop head! Why would I miss you?!"

"I'm getting mixed messages here," said Arthur, not unreasonably.

"I've missed you for two years! Two whole years! Then Gwen says it's all right, she thinks we never stopped. And I don't know what to think! Then Leonard tells me to live for the moment so I ran up here and kissed you and I don't even know why!"

"Well, it is a bit confusing," said Arthur.

"You're telling me!" yelled Merlin.

"Only," said Arthur, "You did say you didn't want to, any more."

"I didn't say I didn't want to! Of course I did! I thought _you_ didn't want to! Because of Gwen!"

Arthur's expression was painfully confused and lost, but there was a glimmer of hope in his eyes because Arthur never really gave up when he wanted something, and suddenly it was very clear what he did want, after all. Merlin's heart thumped.

"Gwen knows," Merlin said. "She's happy. Really, she really is. It's like you said. Strawberries and apples. Pears. Whatever. Different. It's different. It's all right."

Arthur took a step towards him. Grabbed him by the shoulders. For a moment Merlin thought Arthur was about to shake the stuffing out of him, but then Arthur's mouth was on his and they were kissing, furiously and angrily and desperately, staggering towards Arthur's bed with their hands in each others' hair. 

"You want this," Arthur stumbled out as he tugged Merlin's shirt up, fumbling his belt. 

"Yes," Merlin hissed, and let Arthur push him back onto the bed.

They undressed in a frenzy with clumsy, trembling fingers, Merlin's mind blessedly empty of anything but lust and the big, stupid feelings he had for this man. Arthur slid down the bed, gripping Merlin's hips to keep him still, murmuring "God, Merlin, the things you make me do," and before Merlin could protest that it wasn't his fault, Arthur's mouth was on him, sucking Merlin's cock in, tongue sliding, teeth grazing, and Merlin was gasping for breath and clutching frantically at the bedclothes.

Arthur settled into a steady rhythm; Merlin touched Arthur's hair, so soft; rocked his hips the scant inch or so Arthur would allow, relishing the resistance Arthur gave him to strain against. 

Arthur began a soft, messy suck and Merlin all but came undone. He managed to squeak 'Arthur!' in time for Arthur to pull back before Merlin spilled in his mouth, but just as Merlin was getting himself under control again Arthur's mouth was back, tongue darting out to lick the head of Merlin's cock before he swallowed him whole, right down to the root, and that was it. Merlin came, hard - Arthur coughed and spluttered a bit but Merlin couldn't help it - kept on coming and coming, painting streaks of white over Arthur's lips and teeth and chin, oh God, it was dribbling down Arthur's _chin_.

"Ungh," Merlin said, and collapsed back on the bed, completely limp and sated.

He drifted for a timeless while, and only gradually became aware of Arthur moving around, splashing in water. But still Merlin couldn't open his eyes; his body was paralysed with languid bliss. He felt the bed dip as Arthur climbed back on it. Merlin cracked open an eye and smiled. "Sorry," he croaked. "I did warn you."

"Let us never speak of it again," said Arthur, so sternly that Merlin panicked for a moment and was all set to start grovelling.

"Just kidding," said Arthur, smugly, and pulled Merlin on top of him, tugging his head down to kiss his mouth.

"Let's not leave it two years before the next time," Merlin said, stroking Arthur's hair.

"Well, I was hoping we might not leave it two minutes," said Arthur, plaintively. "I still have a bit of a situation here." He bucked his hips, his hard cock bumping against Merlin's thigh.

"Pass the oil, then," said Merlin, grinning from ear to ear.

*

Merlin and Carlin sat on one of the long stone benches that lined Lord Godwyn's entrance hall. She was still weak, but had regained some colour in her cheeks and assured Merlin that she would fully recover once she'd returned to the safety of the waters at Neath.

"I haven't said thank you properly," she said. "So I got you a present. Well, you know. Found you a present." She pointed vaguely at the air. "Anyway. Here you go."

She passed Merlin a little wooden box, tied up with a bit of raffia. He opened it carefully, and inside was an ink pot, a bottle of dark ink and beautiful quill. He recognised the ink pot immediately: he'd admired it on the stall where he'd first met Carlin, in the market at Grassmere.

"The quill's a bit special," Carlin said. "One of mine." She patted her back, where her wings were safely illusioned into invisibility. "It's a bit magic, but I won't tell anyone if you don't."

"Thank you," said Merlin, with a smile. "I'll treasure them always."

"You did save my life," said Carlin. "Fair's fair."

"Any time."

"There was one other thing I was going to ask you," she said. "It's about your friend, the shapeshifter."

"Aloysius? What about him? He hasn't been making a nuisance of himself, has he?"

"No, it's not that. I'm worried about him."

"I think his new powers have been going to his head a bit."

"Well, he's kind at heart. Did you see him playing with Arthur's ferret the other day?"

"When he turned himself into a big black ferret and chased her through Arthur's room, knocking over two goblets of wine and tureen of soup? Yes, I did notice that. Guess who had to clean up the mess?"

There was a smile on her face that he couldn't quite fathom.

"His powers are new to him," she said. "I'm not sure what you did when you changed him back but he already had magic and now…. I think he needs some guidance."

"I suppose so. I can talk to Gaius about it, perhaps he can stay with us for a while and I'll train him."

"Actually, I was thinking I might take him back with me to Neath. The druids have a wealth of knowledge and understanding, Merlin. I think perhaps they can help him best. And it would be good to have a bit of company, now and then."

"Of course," said Merlin. "Thanks."

"It's been a pleasure to know you, man with hairy trousers," said Carlin.

"It's been a pleasure to know you too, strange girl with wings," Merlin replied.

*

They left Lord Godwyn's a few weeks later, the knights none the worse for their adventure and Arthur and Merlin bickering more happily than they had for years. Even Uther seemed a little better; he was still confused and deeply, profoundly sad, but the nightmares were less thanks to Maric's potions, and he was no longer jumping at shades in the dark.

Merlin was very, very pleased to see the towers of Camelot, and even more pleased to flop on Arthur's big, soft bed.

"Don't make yourself comfortable," Arthur said.

"That's your job," said Merlin, cheekily, and for once Arthur didn't even tell him off.

Later they lay in the rumpled mess of Arthur's sheets, and watched the fire. Ferox was stretched out on the hearth, making weird squeaking noises in her sleep.

"You do spoil her, Merlin," said Arthur. "She must go back to the stables tomorrow."

"Okay," said Merlin, knowing he'd smuggle her into his rooms downstairs.

Arthur squinted a little, looking at the ferret more closely.

"She looks a bit fat. Have you been giving her cheese again?"

"No! She's not…."

But as Merlin looked he realised Arthur was right. However, she wasn't exactly fat. She was fat in the way the cat in the kitchens had been fat just before she delivered a litter of twelve kittens last spring.

"Oh dear," said Merlin.

"Oh," said Arthur, reaching the same conclusion. "Well, some of the knights have been admiring her for a while now. It would be good to have a few more that I could train from scratch. I wonder how it happened, though? There's no other ferrets here and Lord Godwyn doesn't keep them."

Merlin swallowed hard, his mind working overtime. Wine spilt on the floor. A tureen of soup.

"Merlin? Any ideas?"

"I don't know," he said, although he knew perfectly well. "I suppose she must have found a mate somewhere on the road."

"Ah, yes. That must have been it. Ah well. I'm going to sleep now, busy day tomorrow. You can stay, if you'd like."

Merlin pulled the sheets and blankets over them, curled into Arthur's side, and settled down to sleep.

It was probably a very good thing that Aloysius had gone to Neath.

A very good thing indeed.

_~Fin~_


End file.
